Classics, Pickup Lines, and Mistletoe Kisses
by iamsupergirl2
Summary: Much to my humiliation, I blurted out my favorite romantic quote of my favorite book to a random customer. It seems like he hasn't been able to leave me alone since then. Three days later, I find my lips locked with his. Under the mistletoe. At his family's house . . . How exactly did this happen again? [AH, Short Story]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Welcome to my newest short story! I got this idea a couple of days ago and thought it would be fun to write. This is purely for my enjoyment only. But I hope you like it in any case!

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**Chapter 1  
BPOV**

**[December 22 – afternoon]**

Ew, I thought with distaste, frowning out the window. It was three days before Christmas – one of the coldest times of the year – so, naturally the temperature was below negative infinity; not to mention that Forks was one of the rainiest cities in America. It was only to be expected – and, in fact, _welcomed_ for snow.

Except for me – I hated the snow.

Outside on the street, I could see, were children throwing snowballs at each other, looking like they were having their lives. Adults, parents most probably, were guiding their little ones to create snow angels and snowmen – complete with the carrot nose and twig arms.

Poor things, I mused sympathetically. The cold must have been messing with their minds. What other logical reason could they possibly have, especially the adults, for freezing their butts off in this ridiculous weather, despite the fat layers of clothing they wore?

Oh, well, I shrugged offhandedly. It was their losses for choosing to remain outside. That was why they were forced out onto the streets – with their teeth chattering, pink noses and blue lips from the icy wind – and standing knee–deep in snow, while _I_, on the other hand, was safe and cozy in my little _warm _adobe of heaven, with a blazing hot chocolate and marshmallows.

Oh, who was I kidding? Those families looked like they were having a blast! Even Frosty, the snowman was grinning! Despite the bizarre weather, everybody was wrapped up so tightly that they didn't have to worry about getting sick. The parents were grinning at each other and the children were laughing merrily and shouting in delight.

It was one thing I long to have: family time. I loved my parents, of course. There was no doubt about that – but they'd divorced soon after my birth. I still got to see them, certainly, and they had never held me back from anything, but I had never spent time with them as just the three of us. It wasn't very often but at a rare occasion, my parents needed to meet face–to–face and the situations were always so awkward for them, and hence, awkward for _me_ to witness it. Especially with my mother's new boyfriend.

I just wished things could go back to normal.

I had gotten my aversion to the cold from my mother. As soon as I had been born – _here_, in Forks – she had whipped me off to Arizona, claiming that she didn't want to be "trapped" here. I had grown up there most of my life, so I had experienced and enjoyed the heat.

It was _because_ of the snow that I was confined to this store in the first place. This morning had started off normally. It was winter vacation, of course, so I didn't have school. But I did have work. I usually loved and looked forward to my job. But not today. It had been snowing when I had left for work – nothing too dangerous (the snow had _just_ started around that time, so it had been barely three centimeters above the ground), but it had still been a pain in the ass and a royal damper to my mood.

Naturally, arriving at the bookstore had lifted my spirits almost immediately. I absolutely loved it when customers asked me for recommendations or help to locate a particular book. Today had been a bit busier – I guessed everybody was ready to snuggle by the fire at night, with a mug of hot tea and a new novel.

I knew I was.

I had been excited to leave after my shift was over, but then Carmen – the owner of the bookstore as well as a close friend of mine – had dropped the bomb on me, informing me that the ground was now buried under three _feet_ of snow and that driving my truck through it, all the way home, would be the stupidest idea in the history of stupidest ideas and that it would be wise to wait for the community to get rid of the snow.

I had been stuck here ever since.

Did I mention that I hated snow?

Okay, so _maybe_ I was exaggerating – I had only been here for about half an hour – and not to mention I was surrounded by my favorite things in the world: books – but was it too much to ask to let me go home? Everyone else _enjoyed_ the snow, which was why they were outside in the first place, but I didn't. I could have also sat down with my favorite book but the harsh weather and dark clouds had put my frame of mind extremely aggravated and I wouldn't be able to concentrate even if I wanted to.

Charlotte had arrived, just fifteen minutes ago, for her shift to start. We never really crossed each other's paths, since my shift usually ended before hers, so she had been surprised to find me still here. I had wondered how she had been able to drive through the snow (my hopes had gone up, thinking maybe I could leave), but she had informed me that she lived very close by and had only needed to hack through the white mush by foot.

Now, I sat alone (Charlotte had disappeared for quite some time now and I had absolutely no customers – not that I was very social, anyway) behind the front counter, at the entrance of the store, staring mournfully at the computer screen on which I had opened up a website that gave regular updates about the condition of the snow and what the town was planning to do to remove it.

It was during the time of my brooding when the front door opened, causing the "jingle bells" (that Carmen had insisted on decorating the bookstore with) to chime loudly, and in entered a young man, nicely wrapped up warmly in his black coat and scarf.

He turned to remove his jacket and hang it up on the coat stand which we had placed there specifically for the customers.

"Good afternoon," I called out politely, drumming my fingers on the countertop.

He turned back briefly and returned, "Afternoon" in a smooth, low and velvety voice (that left me momentarily stunned) before focusing his attention on the task at hand.

Shrugging, I faced the computer again, uninterested, before refreshing the page. I didn't bother asking him if he needed any help looking for some books, firstly because he had already marched off into the Classics section (he earned a great deal of respect from me for that), and secondly, I knew firsthand how annoying it was to have pesky employees constantly nagging you and offering their help when it was clearly not needed. If he needed my assistance, he could ask for it.

Charlotte reappeared by my side with two mugs of hot chocolate. I smiled gratefully as she handed me one and sipped it carefully. We chatted quietly about the weather. Unlike myself, Charlotte was used to the cold, so she didn't mind, but she understood how I felt. Regretfully, we had never gotten the chance spend quality time together, so it was fun getting to know her.

I jumped slightly when a stack of books were suddenly dropped onto the counter and I realized that the guy from earlier was finished. I stood up with a bright smile, and starting scanning the items.

"Did you find everything you needed, sir?" I asked kindly, keeping my eyes locked on my motions. I was extremely clumsy; knowing me, I was bound to knock over my hot chocolate mug over the books (destroying their smooth and flawless appearances), shatter it into pieces and unintentionally slice my hand open by the shards.

Yeah, don't be surprised.

"Yes, thank you," he responded softly, his voice light and hearty. "I was very impressed by the collection of Classics there are."

The fact that he answered in such a detailed way surprised me; normally customers never enjoyed the short and quiet small talk that Carmen had insisted that all employees practiced. They usually answered in clipped tones and very short, rude answers, as if they had other and better things to do than gossip with staff.

"Good choices," I remarked, trying to sound casual, even I though I was practically grinning with approval. I eyed the titles; _Pride and Prejudice_, _Sense and Sensibility_, _A Christmas Carol_, _and Robinson Crusoe_ were just a few of the names, but it was _Wuthering Heights _that really caught my attention; my favorite classic of all time.

"Classics _are_ the best, aren't they?" he agreed, sounding more enthusiastic than I'd ever heard him. "I've read these all before, but just didn't own any of the copies."

"Hmm," I murmured, grinning briefly at Catherine on the cover page. "_This_ is my favorite book. Ever. Emily Brontë's a _goddess_.

My smile became a little dreamy as I recounted one of my favorite, most romantic quotes of the book. "It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now," I murmured, placing the books in a plastic bag as my eyes glazed over. "So he shall never know how I love him; and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

The room was so silent that I could practically hear nonexistent crickets chirping. Clearly entertained, Charlotte cleared her throat softly a few feet away which snapped me back to the present. A blush creeped up my neck and cheeks as I realized what I had just done. I hadn't even been _aware_ that I had just quoted a romantic quote in front of a random stranger. He probably thought I was a freaking lunatic.

Instinctively, I searched out the guy's expression, almost afraid of what he might be thinking. I met his gaze.

The most vivid pair of emerald eyes were staring straight into my own, in undisguised curiosity and fascination, and the words of embarrassment died in my throat, leaving me stunned. I realized that I hadn't done a thorough job of describing him when he had entered the shop. Of course, I hadn't exactly gotten a proper glimpse of his face since it had been turned away most of the time.

But now it wasn't.

And God, was he . . . handsome or _what_?

He was the kind of the guy who would immediately fall under the "drop–dead–gorgeous" category – the kind of guy whose looks any girl (or guy, for that matter) would _instantly_ catch up on. On top of his head was a tangle of penny–colored hair – mostly red, tinged with dark brown – that looked _so _unruly that my mind – which was basically a puddle of mush right now – think of _sex hair_. My face felt hot instantaneously, but I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from him. He was also quite pale, like me. His height must have been about six and normally, I would have felt extremely intimidated but his face just held a certain innocence, a boyish charm, that held an intense but playful aura around him.

I gasped under my breath when Charlotte nudged my elbow, jolting my eyes away from him.

"Oh, um," I stammered, scrambling to get his things. I glanced at his bill. "Sorry about that," I ran a hand through my hair, laughing nervously. "I, er, didn't mean for that to come out. Uh, your bill is a total of, um, eighteen dollars and twenty–three cents, sir."

I tried to keep my attention on the computer and not on the way he had to reach into the _back_ pocket of his jeans to get out his wallet. I figured I must have started hyperventilating. He handed me a twenty, to which I replied with a mumbled "thank you" and returned his change, along with his recent purchases.

"Um, have a nice day, sir. Come back soon." I called out, though desperately wishing he would _never_ come back. I didn't think I could stand it if he came back again. The mortification was just too much.

The . . . _Greek–God–who–just–witnessed–Isabella–Swan–in–one–of–the–most–embarrassing–situations–of–her–life_ leaned forward across the counter, his plastic bag clutched tightly in his right hand, and stared into my eyes. My heart thundered against my chest.

"Have a _wonderful _day, _Isabella_." He had dropped his gaze to my chest (which had made my face briefly resemble a tomato) where my nametag was sitting innocently. "And I'll _definitely_ come back soon."

I stared open–mouthed after him in disbelief and shock. He busied himself with wearing his coat, before turning back to me. "Happy Holidays."

He flashed me a crooked grin, then left – the jingle bells jingling in his wake.

"What," Charlotte began, rounding on me, apparently too dazed to think. Her mouth was hanging open, all previous traces of laughter gone; her expression, a sure mirror of my own. ". . . was that?"

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**A/N:** Belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks a lot for your response to the first chapter. I'm glad that so many of you enjoyed the first chapter and I hope you will continue to do so for the future chapters.

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**Chapter 2  
BPOV**

**[December 24 – evening]**

A Christmas dinner was in order.

I hadn't been spending enough time with Charlie, my father – that much was clear. Of course, it wasn't anybody's fault; he'd been busy with his work and I'd been busy with mine and some of the over–the–holidays work the teachers I despised had assigned to us. Yet, the guilt had been eating me from inside, so I decided that I could cook an elaborate meal. Neither of us were pros at expressing our feelings to each other (or anybody else, as a matter of fact) so I figured this would acceptable.

After all, Christmas was a time for family – however inadequate said family was.

I had finally decided on fish 'n' chips since Charlie loved fish more than anything in this world. I stood in the _Fresh Foods_ aisle, debating between cod and haddock when a somebody suddenly spoke into my left ear, hot breath fanning across the exposed, bare skin of my neck.

"Excuse me," A low, velvety voice murmured. "I just wanted to know if you're as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside?"

Completely taken off guard, I let out a tiny shriek and the fish packages slipped out my hands and into the open–freezer below. I whirled around in surprise and found myself staring into a very familiar pair of green eyes.

Holy. _Crap_.

It was the same Adonis from the bookstore I'd met only two days ago.

The only reason his emerald orbs were so _familiar_ was because I'd been unintentionally seeing them so often in my dreams and _intentionally_ fantasizing about them ever since I'd . . . _met_ him. Speaking of eyes, they were staring so keenly into my eyes that I felt my cheeks burn automatically; damn, he _knew_ that I recognized him. It took me a few seconds to actually process what he had said, and when I did, I flushed darker.

_What_? _Beautiful_? Was he for real?

He must have found my dumbfounded expression incredibly amusing for he let out a little chuckle and stepped back from my personal bubble (not that I terribly minded if he didn't), allowing me to gulp in plenty of oxygen.

"O–Oh," I stuttered, sounding like a complete moron – my brain seemed to have been working at an extremely slow pace. "Er . . . _sorry_?"

His grin widened, causing his eyes to twinkle . He wasn't pushing any cart, but there was a basket by his feet, already overflowing with groceries.

"I thought happiness starts with an "H"," He continued, as I gaped at him like I was mentally retarded, quite aware that my face must have been resembling a fish. "So, why does mine start with "_U_"?

My heartbeat sped up, faltered, then died. Did he just use a _pickup line _on me? How utterly humiliating! It was obviously all a joke; he couldn't possibly be sincere about what he was saying. He was so good–looking and purely attractive and I was just . . . well, _me_. Besides, the attractive ones were always the terrible flirts (not that I was anything flirt–worthy, of course) – the ones who had dated many girls (and broken their hearts right after) in the past, and slept with a good chunk of them. I didn't even know this guy's name or anything else about him. How old was he? He could be a pedophile or a _stalker_, for all I was aware of.

So then why exactly wasn't I running away? Mike Newton – an immature blond who had developed an unhealthy infatuation with me ever since my first day at school – was also quite good–looking, popular and well–liked by everybody. But _I _found him incredibly annoying; he got on my nerves because he talked too much nonsense and had nothing in common with me . . . But what was the deal with this guy? I was certain that I just wasn't letting him stick around because he was attractive – I wasn't _shallow_, that was for sure – but there had to be _something_ about him that appealed to me . . .

He must have decided that I wasn't freaking out (even though I _was_ – internally) or running away (though I had a sneaking impulse to do so), for he smiled radiantly.

"I was wondering if you had an extra heart," He mused, his smirk growing with each word. His eyes never strayed from my own, though I was finding it a bit difficult to meet his. "Mine seems to have been stolen."

How long was he going to keep this up? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered what other people must have been thinking about this little love, er, _yuck_–fest in the middle of a grocery store.

I still couldn't speak an intelligible word, despite the fact that I incredibly bright in English class. I was too stunned at seeing him _again_, seeing his obviously gorgeous features, and listening to him and his pickup lines. My eyes were so wide that I expected them to bug out any second now.

Starting intently into said eyes, he proceeded with, "Was your father a thief? 'Cause someone stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes."

I lowered my gaze from his immediately, knowing I would never be able to talk to him while making eye contact. A smile was threatening to erupt on my face, but I tried my best to keep my expression deadpan. Damn, this guy was making me blush like hell – I'd never blushed for so long and continuously in such a short period of time – but I wasn't going to let him get away with this without a fight.

"No, actually," I replied, smirking. "Quite the opposite, really. He's a cop."

I supposed he must have incredibly surprised with not only the fact that I had responded to him (in _English_) for the first time since he'd gotten here, but also the answer I gave him. His eyes grew wide. Alarmed, at first, but then they shifted to delight and he laughed gently. "Are you serious?"

I nodded, smiling shyly as I turned back to the fish and picked up a random packet, tossing it into my cart. As much as I hated it, the shopping adventure needed to come to an end so that I could get going. I side–stepped him easily and headed for the kitchen supplies aisle. Without a moment's pause, he lifted up his basket and began to follow me.

"If a fat man puts you in a bag tonight," I heard him say from behind me. "Don't be scared because I told Santa I wanted you for Christmas."

Amusement bubbled up inside of me and my laughter rang out in the empty aisle, before I could quite stop it, and his smile broadened. The idea of anybody wanting me was ludicrous, but I did not voice my opinions. Instead, I teased him, "You still believe in Santa? Such a kid; come talk to me when you become an adult."

His smile faded, only minutely. Shit, he realized that I was taking him up on his challenge. With all seriousness etched onto his features, he fired off another one, his green eyes glowing. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?"

"Well, of course I believe in love at first sight," I retaliated, feeling my chest about to burst. Could my grin get any wider? "Ooh, but could you do me a favor and ask _him_ to walk by."

Tauntingly, I pointed over his shoulder at the non–existent male, but he didn't even bother to turn around and look, keeping his stare locked on me. Instead, his eyes narrowed and turned smoldering. "If I had a garden, I'd put your tulips and my tulips together."

Heat creeped up my neck and my face got redder just at the idea of kissing him. My imagination was already zooming into overdrive and if he didn't stop this soon, my cheeks were going to be stained red _permanently. _"Sorry, but I've never been into Mother Nature."

"Where have you been all my life?"

"Hiding – with a good reason."

"Is it just me or are you the brightest shining star out here?"

"Nah, it's just you."

Our playful banter continued for about fifteen minutes before I remembered _again_ that I needed to leave. I regretfully told him so, and I swore I could see a hint of disappointment flash in his eyes, before they brightened up again.

"So, Isabella," he began casually. "Do you work at the bookstore everyday?"

"_Bella_," I corrected him automatically, even as I frowned suspiciously at the random question. "And no, not on Tuesdays or Thursdays or Christmas."

He smiled. "Of course not," He agreed. "No one should be working on Christmas – which reminds me! I'm inviting you over to my house tomorrow. I'll pick you up, of course. My parents are hosting a big dinner for family and friends and I would be incredibly honored if you came. It's at eight o'clock. Don't be busy. And I'll need your number to call you later to confirm your directions."

I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. "Ex_cuse_ me?" His grin faded at my expression and his own turned a little panicked. "Did you just invite me to your _house_ for a _family_ dinner? Why?"

"Er," He scratched the back of his neck, appearing slightly embarrassed, as his ears tinged red. "Because you're my friend, and I'd appreciate it if you were there. I'd like to get to know you better."

"Better?" I repeated incredulously. "_Friend_? You don't know _anything_ about me. I just met you _yesterday_ and that was for like five _minutes_. And I know _nothing_ about you! Your name? Your age? Where do you live? Are you stalking me? Why did you just randomly start using pickup lines on me? Why –"

"Oh, well," He flashed a brilliant, crooked smile in my direction, seeming relieved. How could he look like that? I was going berserk over here! "That's easy. My name's Edward Cullen, formerly Edward _Masen_ before I was adopted. I'm seventeen, a junior at Port Angeles High School. I live in, well, it's kind of hard to explain, but you'll see my house anyway when I bring you there tomorrow. I'm not a stalker, I can assure you. It was just a pleasant coincidence that I spotted you here. I started using pickup lines on you, which I _genuinely_ meant, because I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world. And also the fact that I haven't been able to get you off of my mind ever since you quoted _Wuthering Heights_ for me the other day. I want us to exchange phone numbers – that way I can call you to ask the million questions I have because I'm dying to know more about you. So I ask you again, Bella – will you join me for my family's Christmas dinner tomorrow?"

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**A/N: **I know Edward sounds like a stalker, but I can assure you he is _not_. Promise – (although, I'm sure that even if he was, you wouldn't mind!). Please let me know what you thought about this chapter. Thanks a bunch!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thank you so much for reading, and reviewing the previous chapter. A specials thanks to **Alex**, the guest reviewer – I'm glad you liked it! I would have preferred to reply by PM, but you don't have an account. I hope you like this chapter!

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**Chapter 3  
BPOV**

**[December 25 – afternoon]**

I had said yes. I had accepted his invitation to his family's Christmas dinner, which was being held _tonight_.

Looking back on it now, I figured it was pretty stupid of me, but his scorching, green eyes . . . and mesmerizing voice . . . and the sharp, pale features on his . . .

Christ, I'd been dazzled into it. I hadn't had a choice. Besides, the extra long speech he'd given, along with that part about my being beautiful (which was so not true!) had gotten me all flustered. The brain which had been just mush until then, had melted and given way out of my head. I'd had no way to think for myself.

Edward had beamed, his face brighter than any of the Christmas decoration lights I'd seen this season, when I'd stammered out a breathless "sure". He had whipped out his iPhone, all but demanded my cell number and, before I could have blinked, snapped a picture of my tomato–red face to assign as a new contact. Then, he'd carefully reached for my hand, squeezed it lightly (the first time we'd ever touched!) before flipping it over to press a gentle kiss on the back of my hand.

After that, he had left me, grinning, to gather my jumbled and mumbled puddle of thoughts – in the middle of the produce aisle. Jerk.

I stood over the stove now, flipping the fries out of the pan and onto a newspaper to soak up the excess oil. Charlie was in the living room, watching the game or the news – I didn't know – while I prepared dinner for him. I felt _way _more than "a little guilty"; Christmas was a time for family and there I was just planning on leaving him by himself for the night.

Maybe he could go to Billy's . . . ?

I chewed on my lip nervously, debating whether or not to call Edward and cancel our plans before I realized that I didn't even have his number. Why hadn't I just outright declined yesterday? How hard was it to say "no"? To those eyes, of course, pretty hard . . .

As I berated myself for my idiotic behavior yesterday, I contemplated how to break the news to Charlie . . .

What could I even say in the first place – "Oh, hey, Dad. I was just wondering if I could go over to a friend's house. Yeah, I kind of met him at the bookstore the other day where I babbled out a _Wuthering Heights_ quote. And then he saw me at _Safeway_ yesterday and sort of invited me over to his house tonight"?

Yeah. Right.

God, I was useless.

Today's Christmas morning hadn't been anything special. I'd wished Charlie a "good morning" and a "Merry Christmas" which he'd returned. I'd also gotten plenty of calls (none from Edward, unfortunately) from my mom as well as some good friends of mine, expressing their holiday greetings.

All morning, I'd been stewing over and trying to work up the courage – and the words – to inform Charlie of my "plans" for this evening, but now? Now, I wasn't even sure if I _wanted_ to go!

I mean, now that I was free from the danger–zone and safely away from the power of Edward's hypnotizing . . . _everything_, I was able to process my thoughts rationally. Everything about Edward's actions since I'd seen him first down to his words screamed "stalker" at me. I guessed the meeting itself at Safeway could pass off as a coincidence, as he had claimed, but he had been the one to sneak up on me in the first place. And those pickup lines? Despite the amusement and fun, I'd never admit aloud, I had, it was still a little unnerving to think about.

What _had been _his reasons for using those silly lines on me, anyway? Ever since he'd uttered the words yesterday, I'd never believed that he had "genuinely meant" them at all. It was possible that he had simply wanted to finish the task of embarrassing me further, since I hadn't done it completely the other day at the bookstore. The smiles on his face had clearly been out of amusement. He had probably been getting a kick out of my mortification.

Or perhaps, when he had recognized me at the store, he had simply thought that approaching me would have been fun and he had just wanted us to have a little playful, friendly banter. As it was, he _had_ called me a "friend" when I had asked him to explain his intentions for his invitation.

And then? If his previous actions and words could not classify under "stalker" then his inviting me to his house certainly did, right? I mean, sure he had presented me with his miniature autobiography and everything, but still! I hadn't spent enough time around him to trust him.

He had even offered to pick me up from my house. For that, he would need my address. It was such an innocent reason to find out where I lived! Who knew? Maybe there wasn't a celebratory party at his home in the first place and he had just been using that as harmless excuse? What if he decided to drive me off to the woods or something and bury me alive? It would be dark, of course, so no one would know. I would be _alone_ with him in his car and the police would probably not even find my body (or what would be remaining of it, anyway) until after month or so.

And then I had foolishly given him my phone number. And had been frozen enough for him to snap a picture of me on his phone.

Only a fool would risk their life to fall for something so plain and obvious. And I was _not_ a fool.

_That's it_, I thought to myself firmly. _I'm _not _going. I barely know the guy, and I am going to be completely logical, rational and responsible about this decision. It'll be intruding, anyway. Even without his family and relatives, it would be awkward and uncomfortable. What conversations would we have in the first place? Yesterday he used pickup lines on me _– _perhaps he would whip out a joke book and start reading some to me . . . _

Charlie entered the kitchen when I was rinsing the dishes and he seemed to be having something on his mind as well, for his movements were a little awkward and jerky.

"Dad, are you okay?" I watched him in mild concern.

He looked at me quickly, almost as if he didn't want to say whatever it was before he sighed in defeat. "Yeah, I'm fine, Bells. But I, uh, wanted to let you know that, er, Billy and the gang are having a soiree at La Push tonight, so –"

"Dad," I laughed at the pained look on his face. "It's alright. You can go if you want to; I'll be fine."

"Well, you can come, too, of course," He said quickly, sounding relieved that the worst part was over. "It's sort of a family invitation thing."

I bit my lip and averted my eyes. Within the past twenty four hours, I'd already received two "_family _invitations", not that I would be going to either one, of course, but it was still quite ironic. I'd known Billy and his son, Jacob, for quite a while. When I used to live with my mother, I would come down to Forks during the summers to spend time with Charlie. Naturally, he used to set me up on "play–dates" with Jacob's elder sisters, but, as nice as they had been, they had been vastly more feminine and less mature than I had been. While they enjoyed fairy tales and princesses, makeup and gossiping, I used to enjoy my time with Jacob strolling along the beach, or watching him work on his car.

Jacob and I had had a fairly platonic relationship. Over the course of the years, it had become painfully obvious that Jacob had had a crush on me, but, hoping to squash down his feelings, I had never acknowledged it aloud. Thankfully, Jacob had grown out of it quickly, so I had assumed it had just been a phase through puberty or something. He was now in love with and in a steady relationship with his girlfriend, Nessie, and I was incredibly happy for them, because she was a lovely girl and perfect for him. Though as much as I enjoyed spending time with the duo, I hated being the third wheel.

But for some reason, I had a feeling that that wasn't the _only _reason I wanted to stay behind . . .

"No, it's fine, Dad," I assured him. "I just want to stay home. You can go ahead, though. What time's the party?"

Charlie still didn't look comfortable. "It's at seven, but, really, Bella, I don't have to go. What about you?"

"I'll be alright," I soothed him, not feeling hurt at all. "I've been really tired the past few days, with work and homework, and all that." And _Edward_. "Besides, I got a new book which I really want to read."

This, strictly speaking, was not true, but Charlie knew of my fascination to read and it was easy to fool him. He grinned, just a little. "Alright; you win – but, still, just call me, okay? If you want me to come back home."

"I will." I promised, all the while knowing that I never would. Why ruin his evening – just because _I _was planning on having a miserable one?

He nodded, seeming satisfied with my response and left the kitchen.

I sighed mournfully and refocused my attention on the dishes again. At least one of us would having fun tonight, I thought sadly. I let out a humorless laugh – the whole morning, I'd been chewing over how to let Charlie know that I'd be abandoning him for a Christmas dinner at somebody else's house. Now it seemed like the tables had been turned.

Fabulous.

* * *

As much as I wanted to hide in my room, I allowed myself some time with Charlie in the living room because I wanted to, at least, make an _effort_, before he left for his bonfire (which was just in five hours). We'd been doing our own things in comfortable silence, only briefly interacting to bash the ridiculously lame and stupid commercials or exchange jokes. It was almost fun but still surreal to be doing this.

Charlie was trying to reign in the excitement and anticipation of the night's upcoming events for my sake, but I could see the bright glow of his eyes (that were a perfect mirror of mine) that had nothing to do with the flashy colors of the TV.

While he tried to tone _down _his eagerness, I worked to tune mine _up_. I was sure he already suspected, but if I openly showed that I was upset, he would immediately cancel his plans for the bonfire, no matter how much he was looking forward to it. I supposed I would have done the same, cancelling my (nonexistent) plans for him if I knew that he would lonely at home. As uncomfortable as we were spending time with each other, I would never be that selfish to allow him to remain at home by himself.

Especially on Christmas.

I sighed longingly. It was times like these that I wished he and my mother had never drifted apart and ended their relationship. Not only did it affect themselves, but also the children. It was one of the reasons why I'd never been involved in a romantic relationship before – everything was just so complicated. Looking at my parents, I decided that I would never make the same mistakes they did – premarital sex, unplanned and unwanted pregnancies and, as a result, marriage right out of high school . . .

It was obvious that they hadn't thought things through. First of all, their _relationship_ itself had been rushed. They hadn't been together long enough to know that they were who each other wanted.

Whenever I got into a relationship (not that I could ever see that day coming), I wished for it to be a steady, long _romantic _relationship and I wanted there to be only _one_. If it meant that I had to get through a hundred dates, boyfriend and break ups till I found the right person, then I didn't want it. I doubted it would ever happen, but I would wait for the person who respected me and loved me for me. Someone who I could trust and love unconditionally and have those feelings _returned _as well.

Of course, that was just wishful thinking. I stopped myself before I could delve deeper into an imagination featuring a certain _something _with a certain _someone_.

I coughed loudly and deliberately to snap myself out of my fantasizing world, but had quite forgotten that Charlie was still in the room. He stared at me quizzically and I flushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry," I mumbled sheepishly, focusing my attention back on my book. The words appeared blurred and I couldn't process what I was seeing, despite the fact that _The Great Gatsby_ was another one of my favorite books.

"Bella?" Charlie said suddenly. "Is that your phone?"

He muted the TV and we both listened hard. Sure enough, the faint ringing of my phone from upstairs could be heard. I must have accidentally left it there when I'd gone to locate my book. My heart pounded against my rib cage uncomfortably, and Charlie watched in surprise as I all but flung myself over the couch and dashed up the stairs, almost tripping on five steps along the way.

I skidded to a halt just in front of my bed. I was able to see the illuminated screen, but not anything written on it. For all I knew, it could be a relative or a friend, calling to wish me for Christmas so I tried not to get my hopes up. Slowly, I reached out to grab the phone and, almost warily, glanced at the screen.

It was an unfamiliar number, but, of course, that didn't mean anything because I had very few contacts on my phone. It could be a wrong number, or Edward, or a relative, or Edward, or a telemarketer or –

I pressed the answer button, almost fearful of what I was going to hear.

"Hello?"

* * *

**A/N:** Who do you think is the caller? How'd you like this chapter? There was a lot of internal debating and unfortunately, no Edward, but I actually quite enjoyed writing this one – it was fun to make Bella struggle so much and have conflicting thoughts all the time!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **A thanks to all who has reviewed or favorit–ed/followed me/this story – I appreciate it. This chapter picks up _right_ after the previous one – no skipping hours, or days or whatever.

* * *

**Chapter 4  
****BPOV**

**[December 25 – afternoon]**

"Hi – I was wondering if I could speak to Bella . . ."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and frowned at the abruptness of the sentence, before placing it back. "This is she," I confirmed, still suspicious. "May I know who's speaking, please?"

"Oh!" The chirpy voice exclaimed, suddenly sounding happier and more energetic. "Bella – hey. You most probably don't know me. I'm Alice, Edward's sister."

My mouth fell open with a short _pop_ and I felt my eyes go wide. I swallowed thickly, not exactly sure how I was supposed to respond . . . ("Oh, hey, Alice! How are you doing? How's Edward? Oh, and, by the way, I can't come to your family dinner tonight – sorry. Why? Because I think your brother's a stalker, that's why!")

Yeah, I didn't exactly reply like that.

"O–Oh. Um, hi. _Alice_." I mumbled awkwardly, wishing I could end call but not wanting to appear rude. Exactly what was happening to me lately? Why was I being thrown into a constant loop these past few days? My life had been in a perfect, delicate balance before _he_ had walked in it.

It was silent for a few seconds, mainly because I didn't know what to talk about it. I mean, I knew very little Edward and obviously, even _less_ about his sister – until a five seconds ago, I hadn't even been _aware _that he had a sister!

Alice must have sensed the tension in the ringing silence, for she let out a sigh and started muttering to herself. "I was hoping I could get this over with a little more smoothly, but I don't see how this is going to anything but awkward – of course, the one time he gets a girl, he has to ruin it and _I _have to fix it . . .

I furrowed my eyebrows together as she trailed off with a mumbled curse. I really didn't want to be on the receiving end of her lashing, even if it wasn't directed _at_ me.

And what exactly had Edward ruined? Who was this "girl" she was talking about?

"Er," I said, working to keep the annoyance and impatience out of my tone. "Excuse me?"

She let out a noise that suggested that she'd forgotten I was still on the phone. "Look, Bella," She murmured. "I know this must be terribly awkward and uncomfortable for you – it's uncomfortable for me, too – so, please just bear with me, okay?

I had no idea what was going on, but this was the closest thing that happened to me today that was interesting, so I agreed. "Alright. I'll hear you out."

"_Thank _you," She let out a breath, not bothering to hide her relief. "So, firstly, I'd like to apologize on behalf of my brother. I don't know what's gotten into him, and I'm sure he's probably freaked you out into thinking that he's a stalker – _I don't blame you in the slightest_. I can assure you that he isn't a stalker; just slightly demented, that's all, but . . . Anyway, Edward sort of told me the whole story about meeting at your work and then seeing each other at the superstore yesterday. You can't imagine how angry I was when he told me that he had invited you for our dinner tonight – not that you aren't welcome, of course," She tacked on quickly, sounding apologetic. "But I suppose it's too soon to being invited, having just met twice for brief time periods, as well. So, what I'm really trying to say it that, you're under no obligation to come. I have to admit, everyone, including me, would love to meet you. But we also understand if you don't want to. You probably had other plans made, as well, so don't cancel them on our account."

I sat very still, absorbing this. My eyes and mouth were still wide open and I couldn't seem to get past the mild shock she'd put me through.

I wanted to say something to her in return, even though I had no idea what. But Alice was still waiting quietly and patiently on the other end, so I didn't want to prolong her time.

I cleared my throat, but found that I couldn't give accept or decline her invitation. Not yet, at least.

"Um, Alice? Could I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but you can ask me another one." She teased, and I breathed out in relief, allowing the first smile to flit across my features.

"Thanks. So, um, I just wanted to why . . . why Edward did what he did – like inviting me over to your place . . . I mean, we barely know each other and I don't know enough about him to trust him."

For some reason, I felt that completely comfortable talking about this with Edward's sister. There was something about the way she spoke. It felt to me like she never judged people and always went about things with an open mind. She seemed like a very likable and easy to talk to person.

"You don't have to trust him," She agreed, her voice suggesting as though she were smiling. "Don't feel guilty for not doing so – it's perfectly natural. But if I know my brother at all, I can say with certainty that he is a very sincere person – I'm not boasting or anything – so he really meant what he did about him considering you as his friend. It's just . . . Edward's sort of had a _rough _past and hasn't had much experience with people, much less girls, either, so I guess he didn't know how to act around you. Sorry about that. I know it must have sounded so abrupt and creepy to you."

I remained quiet for a while, taking in the new details. Edward was sincere, he considered me his _friend_ (as surreal as it felt), he had a rough past and he didn't have much experience with girls. For some reason, that last piece of information stuck to me . . .

I thought back to what he had told me yesterday. He was a Cullen, but had been a _Masen_ before he was adopted. Was that what Alice meant about his rough past? It was more than likely that his biological parents had died and was naturally going to be hard on anybody. Perhaps the death of his family had made him closed off from the world, which would explain his lack of exposure to people.

But there was something about the way Alice talked about him. From her words, I could gather that she cared very deeply about Edward because of the way she said "brother" instead of "adoptive brother", as I would have assumed. She obviously knew everything about him, and there was also a hint of sibling rivalry in a _playful _manner because of the way she'd been cursing him earlier for apparently ruining something. She'd sounded aggravated but affectionate at the same time.

This time, _I_ forgot that Alice was still on the line so when she spoke suddenly, I jumped slightly.

"Listen," She began. "It's really _no problem_ if you don't want to come. Don't worry about it; I'll break the news to Edward and I promise, he won't make you feel guilty about it – though I'm not sure that you'll ever see each other again, but . . ." She muttered to herself. "I just called to apologize, so . . . well, bye, then."

I bit my lip, knowing I had seconds to respond before she would end the call.

I reflected back on the inner battles I'd been having with myself since yesterday evening and all day today. I'd be intruding, yes. It would be at least _slightly_ uncomfortable, yes. I wouldn't know anyone there except for Edward, who made me nervous and self–conscious enough, as it was. I was bound to make a fool of myself, naturally. Edward wasn't stalking me, I was sure of it now, because at least he was aware that Charlie was a cop.

And then my mind wandered to all the memories I had of Edward. The way he had looked at me when I'd blurted out that random quote in his face. He hadn't looked at me strangely, instead appearing to me as intrigued. Then the next day – he had used pickup lines, and I remembered how much fun we'd had laughing and exchanging playful banters, despite the fact that my heart had been pounding against my ribs the whole time, so painfully, that I felt as though it was going to pop out. I recalled how much I'd blushed in his presence and how intently he'd been watching me, as though I was a mysterious puzzle he was trying to figure out. I remembered how confident and graceful he'd appeared at first, but then he'd turned all cute and shy on me in the end as he extended his invitation to me.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt that rather than _me_, _he_ was the interesting puzzle I needed to solve.

The words were out of my mouth before I could quite stop them: "Okay. I'll be there."

* * *

**A/N: **So, the thing is, when I started writing this story, I'd been assuming that I'd finish it after three chapters, because I wanted each to represent one segment of the title: Classics (she blurts out the quote), Pickup Lines, and Mistletoe Kisses. So far, I've got six chapters, and am still contemplating about an Epilogue . . . On that note, goodbye! Thanks for reading! I appreciate it. (And I'll be updating on Tuesday, by the way).


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **So, this chapter takes place right after the previous one, as well. I hope you like it, and thanks for reading and reviewing the last chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 5  
****BPOV**

**[December 25 – evening]**

There was an extended pause on the other end. At first I thought that Alice had hung up on me, and obviously hadn't heard what I'd said, but I could hear quiet breathing.

"_You'll_ –" She said in a hushed voice. "You're serious?"

I nodded, before remembering that she couldn't see me. "Yeah, I am. I mean, I appreciate your taking the time to call me. Maybe I wouldn't have even come if you hadn't called. I just hope I wouldn't be intruding . . ."

"Not at all," Alice replied instantly, still sounding awed. "We would love to have you over. I'm just surprised – I never thought you'd even agree, much less agree this quickly."

I laughed gently. "I guess I can forgive your brother – I did have a little fun being with him. It wasn't that bad. Besides, I'd _love _to get to know him more. And you and your family, of course." I tacked on hastily at the end, hoping she wouldn't notice the longing and dreaminess in my tone.

"That's really nice of you," She murmured. "I know Edward will love for you to be there."

I blushed, and quickly changed the subject. "So, could I have your address?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed, sounding confused. "Wait – I thought Edward was going to pick you up."

"Oh, no, that's alright," I said quickly. "I wouldn't want to bother him with going back and forth. Besides, I, uh, kinda don't want him to know that I'm coming until after I get there."

Alice laughed delightedly and I suspected that if she wasn't holding the phone, she would have clapped her hands. "A surprise, huh? He'll love it, though I'm sure he'd enjoy being your chauffeur in any case . . ."

She ratted off her address, which was a little complicated to follow, but she assured me that once I heard the music and the the _billions_ of decoration lights, I'd find the house in no time. From the hint of pride in her voice, I had the distinct impression that she had set up the party lights herself. With the promise to call her back as soon as I got assent from Charlie, I hung up quickly before darting down the stairs.

Charlie was still watching the game when I reentered the living room. He peered at me, perplexed. "You okay? You look kind of . . . flushed."

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm good." I replied distractedly, picking up my book again.

"So," He began causally, keeping his eyes locked on the screen. "Who was that on the phone? You took quite a while."

I hesitated. On one hand, I knew it would be terribly irresponsible of me to not tell Charlie my newly made plans for this evening and it would, no doubt, cause him worry, anger and definitely disappointment _when_, not _if_, he found out later.

But on the other, I still didn't know how to go about this. Did I ought to tell him the truth?

"Oh," I tried to start of casually. "That was Alice – my new friend. I met her when she came to the bookstore some time ago." I kept my eyes locked firmly on my book, occasionally flipping through the pages, as though trying to downplay the entire thing.

Charlie seemed pleasantly surprised, which didn't help in making me any less nervous. "You've never mentioned her before." He commented.

"Well," I shrugged, smiling faintly up at him. "She never came up and I guess I had other stuff to worry about. She called to invite me over to her house for a Christmas dinner."

Charlie didn't reply right away, so all I could hear was the commentary of the football match going on the TV screen, along with the audiences' whoops and cheers.

"What did you tell her?" He asked finally.

I shrugged again. "Well, I don't really know her that much, so I kind of let her down easy. Besides, I'd rather stay home."

"If you want to go, you can," Charlie said quickly. He seemed to be almost glad to have an excuse for me to not be home alone tonight. He obviously had been feeling guilty about letting me remain home for myself, while he was about to enjoy tonight. He must have been thinking that not permitting me to the Cullens would only intensify my "loneliness". I smiled briefly – he was really thoughtful. "I mean, normally, I wouldn't like it if you went to someone's house barely knowing them, but I know and trust you, Bella. You always make the _best_ friends and if you like this Alice, then go. I'm not stopping you."

I was grinning so widely at the end of the speech that Charlie was starting to look a little embarrassed at my reaction.

"If you say so," I said nonchalantly, trying to sound careful and hesitant.

He nodded, but then his face turned serious again. "Do you have her address? Because since it's your first time going, I'd much rather drop you instead of you going by yourself."

I was already shaking my head before he had even finished. "No, no. There's no need to drop me off. Her house is on the opposite side of La Push, anyway and the party'll be starting at eight. You'll be late by the time you reach the bonfire if you come."

Charlie seemed to be struggling with himself so hard that the expressions crossing his face were almost comical. "_Fine_," He conceded at last. "But I want to call me when you leave from here and when you arrive."

I nodded with a smile on my face, unable to believe my luck. All I had to do was call him? I could deal with that.

I gave up my attempts at focusing on my book, because it was obvious that I wouldn't be able to concentrate in any case. Instead, I sent a quick text message to Alice, stating that Charlie had allowed me to come and that I was looking forward to meeting her.

I now had only four hours to leave for Edward's, er, _Alice_'s house and I frowned at the idea of arriving empty handed. Not only would I be a complete stranger, but also an unappreciative guest.

Leafing through the cabinets, I uncovered a packet of sugar cookies, which would be ready in no less than three hours. I also decided on a simple apple pie, because I knew _everybody_ loved that.

I got to work immediately with Charlie as the occasional taste tester. At around six thirty, he vanished into his bedroom to get ready. I was carefully packing the cookies and pie into two separate containers, before placing them on the table, when he reappeared into a casual attire.

"Wow, Dad," I checked him out, impressed. "You clean up nicely."

He rolled his eyes, even as he went slightly red around the ears. "Thanks."

"Have fun at the bonfire." I grinned, wrapping my arms around his torso briefly, before it could get get too awkward.

"You have fun, too," He muttered, looking seriously at me. "Remember, Bella, call me –"

"Yes, yes," I interrupted impatiently, exasperated. "I'll call you when I leave from here and arrive there. And I'll do the same when I leave from there."

A bit of humor danced in his eyes. "Drive safely!" He put in, before I could interject.

I giggled slightly and watched as he headed towards the door. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as he put on his shoes. He was almost out the door, but there was thing I needed to do first.

I called him back. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

I hesitated, before asking the question that had been on my mind since yesterday. "I . . . What do you know about the Cullens?"

Surprisingly, he didn't question my random inquiry, for which I was relieved.

"The Cullens? Oh – they're a well–respected family. Quite rich, too. They live in Port Angeles, so I don't know much about them, but everyone speaks so respectfully about them. Dr. Carlisle Cullen and his wife, with their three kids. All adopted – two boys and a girl, I think. It's a little unfortunate that Mrs. Cullen – Esme – was unable to have kids. She's a great mother. I've never met the kids, but from what my co–workers say, they've never given any trouble to the community or their school."

"The father's a doctor?" I asked, disbelief and awe coloring my tone.

Charlie nodded, seeming quite amazed himself. "A remarkable one at that. People claim that he's the best surgeon in the state."

"How long have they lived here?"

He frowned. "It's hard to say, Bells. They don't live in our area, see, so I wouldn't know."

That was fine, I shrugged. There were other questions that I had that I would ask after the bonfire was over.

"Why do you ask?" He asked suspiciously.

_Darn _it. I'd spoken too soon.

* * *

**A/N: **I seem to be procrastinating Edward and Bella meeting for their third time, but I swear, it isn't intentional. I just want to make this story a tad bit realistic. For Bella to just leave the house without telling her father, and just appearing at Edward's house as it were no big deal, seems a little lame. But now I'm wondering if I'm writing a bit _too_ much – I mean, the previous chapter itself was _just _a really long conversation between Alice and Bella. I certainly don't want to overdo and prolong it, so kindly tell me your opinion if you think I'm going overboard. Help would be very much appreciated – thanks! [I think you'll enjoy the next chapter!]


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Chapter 6 is up! Thanks for the response to the previous one. I'm glad so many of you enjoy this story. Thanks to guest reviewer, **TC**. I appreciate your comment.

* * *

**Chapter 6  
****BPOV**

**[December 25 – evening]**

It was a little ironic, to be honest.

Up until this day, I'd never given a second glance at myself in the mirror to worry about my appearance, but now, I was fussing over my outfit like there was no tomorrow.

What had gotten into me?

I examined the tight, red cardigan than extended just slightly below my waist with sleeves up to my elbows. There were buttons along the entire length of the cardigan, but I used only half of them. Inside, the white tank top, that had quite a bit of lace running along the length of my collarbone, was visible and I'd matched the outfit with my favorite pair of jeans.

I hadn't applied any makeup on my face; firstly, because I didn't own any and secondly, even if I did, I knew absolutely nothing about using it. At school, I'd seen hundreds of girls in the bathroom or holding up pocket–mirrors to apply mascara and eyeliners, and had made a private resolution to never use them. Of course, I was bound to poke myself blind the first time I even tried.

I glanced over myself, blushing slightly, before wheeling around and heading out the door. I needed to leave in five minutes if I wanted to reach at a decent time. After Charlie had left, I'd set the cookies and pie containers by the door in a simple, but elegant bag.

"Still can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered to myself, as I hopped around, trying to shove my boots on.

For the third time, I checked to make sure that I had everything; my phone, the directions to the Cullens (Charlie hadn't made the connection that the Alice/Edward I was meeting belonged to the Cullen family, for which I was grateful), my black coat and my car keys.

With a backwards glance at the house, I shut the door quietly behind me and dashed out towards the curb where my truck was parked.

* * *

The ride was fairly long, not surprisingly, since they lived in Port Angeles but I was getting anxious to reach there. I was certain that I hadn't lost my way, since Alice had given me accurate directions with precise landmarks I'd successfully crossed so far. I supposed Edward was right, when he informed me that it was difficult to describe where his house. As far as I could tell, they lived in the forest.

I took Alice's advice and kept an ear out for loud music and my sight out for bright, flashy lights.

To my immense pleasure, I found it in less than five minutes of aimless driving and the closer I got to the house, the faster my heart beat.

However, when I came to a stop in front of the house, my mouth dropped open in shock. I figured I needed to be glad that Charlie had mentioned that the father was a doctor, otherwise I would immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was a family of billionaires. "Quite rich" was an understatement – this house was practically a mansion. From my current vintage point, I surmised that there were three floors, with the top two having balconies. I couldn't tell the color of the house because of the Christmas lights, but it appeared very pale.

The front garden wasn't empty like I'd expected. Not only were the flowers well–tended to, but there were plenty of Christmas garden decoration with pretty colors lighting them up. Gnomes, reindeer, candy canes, snowmen, mini Christmas trees . . . _everything_!

Even the neighboring _real_ trees had lights traveling up the bark, to make the leaves appear so much more emerald green – a dazzling green that reminded me strongly of Edward's eyes. From the tiny patches of white here and there, I guessed that there were still the remnants of snow lingering around and to my surprise, I did not feel disgusted by it.

I glanced around timidly, glad that I was still in the car. Nobody had seemed to notice my arrival, which made me feel just a _tiny_ bit better.

There were many middle–aged folks, chatting loudly and laughing among themselves in small groups. Here and there, toddlers could be seen running around across the garden with their parents or teenagers chasing after them.

There were about fifteen cars parked randomly across the front yard which made my mouth go dry. Hadn't Alice _and_ Edward both said that this was a _family dinner_? This seemed more like an_ extended _family dinner or a family _reunion _of some sort.

Great. Now I was going to feel even _more_ out of place. Why did I decide to come here, again?

My phone rang from the passenger seat and I jumped practically five feet, almost knocking my head through the roof of the car. I recognized the incoming call now; "Hey, Alice." I greeted with a smile.

"Hey! So I just wanted to find out where you were. Are you still driving? Are you lost?"

"No, no, I've reached your house . . . that is, if your house has a gazillion decorations in the front garden."

"That's the one!" she said brightly. "So, just hang in there for a few seconds, okay? I'll come and get you right away."

"Alright." I said hesitantly, not sure if this was the place I wanted to be now, because _somewhere_, just a few feet away, Edward was in there doing _something_ and I was going to have to go up to him eventually to deliver _myself _as the "surprise". Goodness, was I an idiot or what?

I ended the call, before opening to a new text message to send to Charlie: **Just reached. No problems ****– Alice is here. Hope your having fun – wish Billy, Jake, Nessie, Rachel and Rebecca a "Merry Christmas" for me. Thanks. **

I quickly stowed the phone away and began to gather my items. I barely had my door open before a petite girl, with spiky hair, stood before me, grinning hugely and almost bouncing on her toes.

She appeared impatient and as soon my feet hit the ground, I was engulfed in her shockingly tight embrace as she squealed into my ear.

"Oh, my, Gosh – I am so glad you're here! It's so nice finally meet you! You are so kind to come even though my brother was such a creeper towards you – sorry about that again, by the way! He hasn't got a clue that you're here, just like you'd asked. I hope you had no trouble finding the place – it must have been difficult in the dark, so sorry about that. How do you like the lights, anyway? I did them all myself!" She paused, but not for gulping in oxygen, like I'd been hoping for. "Well, Emmett helped, too, but that's only because I threatened to burn all his video game CDs."

"Wow, Alice," I laughed nervously, deliberately avoiding to acknowledge the comments about her one brother in _particular_. She hadn't said who Emmett was, but I remembered what Charlie had mentioned earlier about Carlisle and Esme having two boys and one girl, so I assumed Emmett was her other brother. "Well, hello to you, too. I'm glad to meet you, too. I didn't have any trouble – your directions were very helpful, so thank you. And I love the decorations! They're very impressive and beautiful."

Alice beamed back and grabbed a hold of my hands to yank me towards the house. I handed her the box of cookies, beginning to explain, but she simply held on to it, rolling her eyes as she did so. "You didn't have to get anything, Bella – we've got enough food to feed an army, but I appreciate the gesture; thanks."

To my great surprise, it was just as easy talking to her on the phone and in person. I hadn't been lying when I said that it was amazing to meet her as well. I thought back to what Charlie had said about my making few, but _true _friends. I'd never dwelt so much on it before, since I was perfectly happy spending time with Angela and her boyfriend, Ben, but a small part of me whispered that maybe it was time to get more social and meet knew people.

It would be difficult, since I was a naturally shy and reserved person, but not impossible.

"Er, Alice? Didn't you and Edward say that this was a family dinner?" Without waiting for a response, I hurried on. "Because you have a _huge_ family, if that's the case."

Alice giggled at the expression on my face. "Well, most of these people here are just extended family. Christmas break is usually the only time we get to meet them because the holidays are so long. Most of them have been arriving slowly for the last few days and more are yet to come, but don't worry; you don't have to meet them if you don't want to."

I settled for a small smile in her direction since I wasn't sure how else to respond. She dragged me straight into the house, casually pointing in each direction and informing what each room was. I didn't acknowledge her, instead allowing myself to gape at the interiors of the house, feeling extremely tiny. Every detail was extremely intricate and flawless, giving off the appearance of a very simple, ancient but fancy museum. They were lots of family photos hanging heavily on the walls which I barely got to see since Alice was zooming through the house rather quickly.

There were even more people inside, laughing merrily and stuffing themselves with food. The living room was dark, a sharp contrast to the mood of the house, but I quickly realized that a Christmas movie was playing and about fifteen little kids were huddled around the huge plasma screen, staring at it in awe, occasionally laughing in delight.

I recognized the movie. "Home Alone?" I grinned at Alice.

She followed my gaze to the living room, before grinning back. "_2_," she corrected. "They've been on a roll, not even stopping to eat dinner. It's a lot more peaceful with them distracted, anyway, so I'm not complaining.

She led me into the kitchen and my mouth fell open again as I stared around in astonishment. Back at home, our kitchen was relatively small which I didn't mind in the slightest, since it was enough room to store everything for Charlie and I. But the space to walk around was very little, and I often found myself crammed. It made me frustrated, most of the time, since I loved cooking.

But this kitchen was incredible. Despite the fact that it was covered in spilled food, drinks and other stuff I didn't want to know about, it look so grand. There was an island in the middle of it, which had bar stools aligned on one side of it, but still plenty of room to between that and the surrounding counters.

By the sinks, a couple of women were standing in a circle, laughing and joking around with each other, not seeming to notice our arrival.

"Alice," I panicked immediately. "You're going to have to introduce me to _someone_ eventually. What's the story? How do we know each other? We don't even go to the same school."

I should have thought things through before with her. If someone suddenly questioned us on the spot, or even in the middle of a casual conversation, I was sure to freeze and stammer out stories like an idiot.

I could lie, of course. Just not convincingly.

"Don't worry," she whispered back, squeezing my hand anxiously. "We met at the mall, and fawned and bonded over our favorite perfume. Trust me; everybody here knows me well enough to buy the story and _not_ ask the brand of the perfume." Her tone sounded sour. Apparently their lack of interest in perfumes and such offended her greatly. "They won't trap you."

I was too busy nodding vaguely to remember that I despised going to the mall, and the fact that I'd invented a completely different story for Charlie, which coincidentally had Alice and I meeting at the _book_store, a place where I actually enjoyed going to. How we both had come up with stories related to our own passions and interests . . .

Alice left me standing there to head towards the refrigerator to put the cookies and pie in. "Mom," she called, opening the fridge door.

A woman broke apart from the group and turned to her, smiling. "Hello, dear. Something wrong?"

Alice didn't answer at first. Pursing her lips at the sight of the very much bloated fridge, she shrugged to place them on the island. Alice's mom seemed to notice me for the first time. Her eyes flitted across my face and her smile turned from motherly to curious, but still friendly. Her mouth opened, as if she wanted to speak, but Alice cut across her.

"This is my friend, Bella," Alice continued, moving her hand from between us. "Bella, this is my mom."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Cullen." I smiled nervously, holding out my hand. I just hoped that I would feel just as much at ease as I felt when I was with Alice.

To my astonishment, it was even _easier_.

Initially, I had assumed that without a mother figure in my life, I wouldn't know how to react or to behave, but as I thought about it later, I couldn't believe I'd actually been fussing over it.

Renee was my mother, sure. And I loved her to death. But she wasn't _a_ mother. She was my best friend. Even as a teenager, she'd always been very energetic, very bouncy and loving. I supposed even getting pregnant during her teenage years couldn't have dampened that aspect of her personality. Despite the fact that she was in her mid–thirties, she was and would remain to be a child at heart.

It was one of the reasons why I was so mature for my age. I'd learned the responsibilities and duties early in life. Some people at school used to say that I was not a fun person to be around with, which didn't really hurt my feelings, because I was too serious. I never really let it affect me, because, well, it _didn't_. I _liked_ taking care of people, not be taken care _of_, because it always made me feel as though I'd accomplished something great.

Alice's mom, who later insisted that I call her "Esme" (much to my discomfort) had graced me with a beautiful welcome smile on her face. There was something about her that made me believe that she was meant to be a mother. At that train of thought, Charlie's words about how she was unable to conceive crept back into my mind and I felt a horrible spasm of pity and grief.

It must have been difficult, to adopt three children and raise them as her own, only because she was infertile. But something about Esme told me that she would have done it regardless.

Ten minutes into being introduced to Alice's mother, I was perched comfortably on top the bar stools, chatting animatedly with her. I realized with a grin that I'd never talked this long with any stranger in my entire life. Well, except for Edward and Alice, of course. I absently wondered if the ease at conversing with them was a part of the Cullen's charm.

Esme briefly questioned how Alice and I had met. As expected, I tensed up and my eyes went wide, but Alice jumped to the rescue and lied like an expert. I was sure that I could have believed her, too, if I hadn't known better.

I felt bad for breaking up her chat with her friends, but Esme waved that off with a kind smile. Alice had disappeared, stating that she wanted to introduce me to her boyfriend and other friends, which left me alone with Esme in the kitchen, but neither of us seemed to mind.

"You have a beautiful house." I complimented her.

"Thank you, dear," Her eyes shined with happiness. "Oh – how rude of me. Bella, can I offer you anything to eat?"

"Oh, no," I shook my head politely. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?" she frowned, looking over at me. "It's awfully late, and you haven't even had dinner, yet."

"I had it before coming here," I said truthfully, not wanting to push over the Cullen's hospitality anymore. They'd been kind enough to invite me over in the first place. "But I'll let you know later if I feel hungry."

"All right," she smiled, appeased, returning to her seat across from me. "So, how long have you been living in –"

Much to my horror, a distraction, by the name of _Edward_, interrupted her question by strolling though the kitchen without seeming to notice me, and headed straight for the fridge.

Dear God.

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**A/N: **I'm sorry? Most of you were hoping that party would be covered in this chapter, but at least a _portion_ of it was, right? Truly, I don't mean to drag it out, but if I feel like it's a good place to stop the chapter, I do it. I'll update soon, maybe early this week. Thanks for reading! Bye.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Thanks a lot for reading. I'm glad you're liking the story! Sorry for the delay in the update; I have a valid reason, but I doubt you'll want to hear it. This chapter will have quite a bit of Edward and Bella interaction! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

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**Chapter 7  
****BPOV**

**[December 25 ****– evening]**

I sucked in a huge breath and I gaped at the back of Edward's head, feeling completely self–conscious but unable to do anything about it. My expression probably resembled that of a deer caught in headlights and I wanted to compose myself, but I just couldn't.

_Fortunately_, neither Esme nor Edward seemed to be looking at me. Esme was frowning at her son who had opened the freezer door and was now rummaging through it rather quickly.

"Edward?"

Edward tilted his head back but only in a show of acknowledgment. He barely glanced at his mother or me, for which I was relieved. "Hmm?"

I let of my breath shakily at the fact that I was really at his house and he was _really_ here, flesh and body. He looked amazing, too. His plaid shirt was bright green, a definite resemblance to his eyes, but I supposed that it was more of a connection to the Christmas colors. His dark jeans were loose and comfortable on his long legs, not below the hips, which I appreciated. I hated it when boys wore pants beneath their waistline, displaying their boxers for the world to see.

In the back of mind, I wondered why he hadn't thought to add red to his outfit since it was a Christmas color, too, but then I realized that his hair definitely attested to that. Speaking of which . . .

I raised my eyes to his messy hair which looked exactly the same as I'd seen him during our previous and only two encounters.

But what I paid attention to most was his expression. When he had walked past me, I had gotten a glimpse of his face. I had been hoping to see his wonderful smile for a very long time, but he looked strangely disappointed. Defeated. The boyish, charming grins that I'd witnessed when he had "flirted" with me were long gone.

And I hated it.

His shoulders were hunched over as he worked over the counter next to the fridge and I realized that he was stuffing ice into a plastic bag.

Esme's inquisitive voice snapped me out of my observations. "Honey, what are you doing?"

"Ice," he said shortly, but not rudely. He added ruefully, "Garrett tripped over a stone and crashed into a reindeer in the front yard. His ankle is sprained."

It sounded like something I would do, I thought, blushing. I glanced back at Edward, watching as he moved gracefully to gather a cloth to wrap the bag in.

Esme sighed from across the island. "I told him not to run around the garden, especially in the dark."

Edward chuckled, but it was a humorless laugh. "That would be my fault. He stole my phone, so I chased after him. Sorry."

Esme shook her head to herself, catching my eye in the process. Her eyes widened, as if she'd forgotten that I was still there. I tensed, knowing what was coming.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, sending an apologetic glance in my direction. "Where are my manners? I completely forgot. Meet Alice's new friend, Bella; she just arrived fifteen minutes ago." She turned to me with a proud smile. "This is Alice's brother. My youngest son – Edward."

My mouth ran dry and my heart pounded furiously against my ribs. It was a wonder that my ribs were still unharmed. I knew for sure that he would turn around at hearing my name. He would see me. Any second now . . .

I was so screwed, I whimpered to myself. I needed time to prepare. Mentally, physically and emotionally. I needed to have something to say to him when he turned around. I had to be ready with a conversation starter. He would recognize me and start firing off questions which would cause Esme to get confused. I would end up yammering like a moron, trying to convince Esme that I didn't know her son. What was the story Alice had up with again?

"That's nice," he murmured instead, focused on his task. He turned around briefly but didn't look at me, whether intentionally or unintentionally. He began to walk out of the kitchen with the bag of ice in his hand, holding it carefully so that water wouldn't drip down the sides. When he was at the kitchen doorway, he threw over his shoulder, "Pleasure to meet you" before disappearing from view.

Esme and I stared after him; her, incredulous, appalled and disapproving, and I, speechless.

"I am _so _sorry for my son's behavior." Esme said in a hushed tone, still staring disbelievingly. "He's never acted this way before."

Funny, everybody seemed to be apologizing for Edward's actions. "It's alright," I managed, still stunned.

I wanted to ask what was wrong with him. Surely, she'd know . . . But wouldn't it seem a little suspicious? Would Esme not question my sudden interest (according to her, at least) in her son?

Before I could proceed, Esme was shaking her head, staring sadly at the table. "I don't know what's gotten into him. He's been appearing depressed since yesterday evening. I think he got into an argument with Alice, because I heard them bickering, which is odd because they _never_ fight. But then afterwards, Alice was acting all normal – looking at him, talking to him. Just like she usually does – no change. But he was sort of down. As if he still hadn't gotten over his and Alice's fight."

I swallowed and worked to keep my question and tone casual. "Did you manage to find out what they fighting about?"

"Well, I did confront Alice about it. She said that Edward wanted to invite a friend over, but she was going to be able to make it. She said that he thinks he "messed up" something. I didn't get the full story, so I'm not exactly sure. I wish he would tell me, though. It's killing me to see him like this, especially when the rest of the family are enjoying themselves."

_It's killing me, too_, I thought with a frown, despite the fact that my cheeks were surely a bright red. I knew exactly who that "friend" was and what he had messed up. But what amazed me was how defeated he looked at the fact that he _had_ messed up. Had he really meant what he'd said? Was my coming here _that_ important to him for him to look like somebody had died?

A warm, bubbly feeling spread through me and I felt a little tingly as I reflected on Esme's words, and realized how my absence at this party had affected him. He had genuinely wanted me here. A smile worked its way across my face. He was _so_ sweet.

I wanted to go find him, and wipe that frown on his face, but his mother was sitting right in front of me. I cleared my throat before Esme could notice and comment on the ridiculous expression on my face.

Alice bounded into the kitchen suddenly, pulling along a handsome blond, who was grinning amusedly to himself. Her eyes scanned the kitchen, spotted us and she dragged him to where we were sitting.

"Hello, Esme," he said quietly, smiling at her, before his eyes flitted to mine. He stared at me curiously for a moment and I found myself completely composed, with my heartbeat and breathing in check. Apparently, his eyes had no power over me whatsoever, no matter how good–looking he was.

"Hi, Jasper," Esme grinned back, pushing herself up from the stool. "Well, I'll leave you kids alone. Have fun."

She turned to walk out of the kitchen and Alice grinned. "Bella, meet my boyfriend – Jasper. Jazz, my friend, Bella, who coincidentally is the girl Edward's been obsessing for the past few days."

Jasper grinned as my cheeks turned into dark red apples. "Hmm. I knew I'd seen you from somewhere. It's nice to meet you, Bella. And Merry Christmas." He added after a moment.

My embarrassed smile turned into a frown. I shook his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah – you, too, Jasper. But where have you seen me before?"

Jasper's smile widened. "Edward's phone. He has a picture of you."

"You _saw_ that?" I nearly shrieked and the duo snickered at my indignation. My insides squirmed uncomfortably. I hadn't seen the photo myself, but I could remember with perfect clarity the way I'd been frozen, wide–eyed and flustered. How utterly humiliating. "Ugh, I'm going to kill him."

"Don't," Alice laughed, sliding her arm through Jasper's. "He feels bad enough, as it is. Speaking of which, when do you want to see him?"

_Never_, I thought miserably. "Um," I mumbled, avoiding their knowing eyes. "Now, I guess."

Alice squealed, scaring the crap out of me, but her boyfriend seemed unaffected. Apparently, it was a normal occurrence. "Come on. Let's go. He'll be so surprised."

She proceeded to drag me in and out of group of people, maneuvering us expertly between guest, to one of the balconies, where Edward was lounging in one of the chairs, staring across the front lawn. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him, even if his back was turned to me. Alice let go of my hand, winked at me, and left.

I swallowed nervously, and a foreign wave of boldness washed over me.

_Sheesh, what is going _on_ with me? Am I bipolar now? At one point, I'm ready to flee the country, and the next, I'm spying and sneaking up on cute boys. _

I checked around to make sure no one was watching before determinedly marching up to him. I leaned down so that my lips were at his ear, much like the way his had been when he'd surprised me at the store yesterday.

And then, I did something unbelievable.

I used a pickup line on him.

"Excuse me," I said quietly. "I want to know what your New Year's resolution is? Because I'm looking at mine right now."

Edward's head snapped up, his eyes and mouth wide with disbelief. I watched with slight amusement as he scrambled out his chair to gape at me. "B–_Bella_?"

My breath caught in my throat as I scanned his perfect features. His lips were parted with shock and he looked as though he'd seen a ghost. A thick lock of penny–colored hair fell across his forehead, but he didn't seem to notice it.

"Hello." I said normally, as if I surprised strangers at their house for Christmas events on a day–to–day basis. But I couldn't call a Edward a stranger anymore. Even though I knew very little about him, _my_ New Year resolution was just that. Him. To learn _everything_ and _anything_ about him.

"W–What?" he stammered, and I remembered how I'd sounded like this when he'd used pickup lines on _me_. I grinned with satisfaction as Edward kept muttering something unintelligibly – revenge. "But how – you're here . . . but I thought you . . ."

I raised an eyebrow as I tried to hold in a laugh. "You invited me, remember? I arrived about twenty minutes ago." When he didn't respond and continued to stare at me in shock, I sighed, putting on a fake tone of disappointment. "So, what? Now you want me to _go_? Fine, if that's what you want . . ."

I turned around, heading for the door to the balcony, when suddenly he flew past me and was in front of me, blocking the doorway.

"No, no, no," he said quickly and anxiously, apparently having regained his composure. "Sorry, sorry. I was just caught off guard. Really. Don't go. Please."

I looked up at him, smiling, but his fear of my leaving had vanished and his own smile surpassed mine. His grin was becoming wider and wider as each second passed and his white teeth shone brilliantly against the dim light of the balcony.

"Bella, you're here," he stated again, much louder this time and certainly eagerly. Excitedly. As though saying it multiple times would make the sentence more true. "I can't believe it. You _actually _came!"

Grinning at his enthusiasm, I said softly, "I came", but I didn't get the chance to say anything else after that because his arms had slid around my waist in one swift motion and he was squeezing the life out of me. I felt the weight of his head resting on my shoulder and my arms, seeming to have a mind of their own, reached up to wrap around his neck.

I expected the discomfort to come, at hugging someone I hadn't known long enough, but it didn't. All I felt was full contentment. I felt safe and warm; as though I was meant to remain in his strong arms for the rest of my life.

And he smelled _really_ good.

I tried not to make it obvious as I inhaled the sweet scent on his chest, briefly wondering which cologne he was wearing.

"Edward," I murmured a second later. As much as I loved hugging him, I really didn't fancy getting caught in this position by anybody. Especially Alice. I shuddered at the knowing smirks she would send my way.

His grip on loosened but he didn't let go. His hands formed fists over the material at my hips and he straightened up to smile down at me.

"_Thank _you," he grinned, his brilliant green eyes smoldering. I swallowed shakily, but he didn't give me time to respond. With an eager smile, he grabbed my hand. "Come on. I'll show you around."

I allowed myself to get dragged along, before my eyes widened. I picked up my pace and turned to stop in front of him. His steps faltered and he looked down at me in surprise.

"Edward," I said hurriedly. "What are you going to tell your parents about me? Esme thinks I'm Alice's friend when we met at the mall the other –"

"Wait," He held up his hands in shock. "You already met my family?"

Was it just me or did he sound a little disappointed?

"Just your mom and sister. Alice called me earlier this afternoon –"

"She _called _–"

I sighed. This conversation was going to take a while.

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**A/N: **Hello! I hope you liked this chapter, especially since they've finally met! Please tell me your thoughts – thank you!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thank you for reading and reviewing the last chapter – (a thank you to **obsessedwthis**, the guest reviewer: your comment made my day!).

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**Chapter 8  
****BPOV**

**[December 25 ****– evening]**

". . .and then," I pressed on, desperate to end my side of the story. It was getting slightly irksome. "I called Alice when I got here, and she came outside. She introduced to me to your Mom, and her boyfriend, Jasper. And _then_, I came and found you. Who's Garrett, by the way?"

Having sensed a lengthy conversation in the near future, Edward had insisted that we go inside the house so that I wouldn't freeze myself to death. As thoughtful as his concern had been (I may have even swooned a bit!), I'd refused, informing him that we needed to sort things out _before_ we headed back inside. I hadn't wanted to take the risk of running into Esme and having her question things such as my appearance with Edward, and why he no longer looked sullen.

I'd ordered Edward to grab a jacket because it _was_ extremely chilly outside and he was wearing a very thin shirt with his sleeves up to his elbows. He'd argued initially, claiming that he was fine the way he was (Boys. Such show–offs. _Honestly_._)_, but I'd simply refused to talk to him. Rolling his eyes, he had bounded inside his house, snagged a sweater and led me around the house to the backyard.

There was a cute, wooden patio swing, situated at the farthest end of the yard. If he hadn't pointed it out, I wouldn't have noticed it because of the darkness. There were a couple of trees and bushes surrounding it, but otherwise, I loved it. The house and the rest of the backyard was still in view. Some elderly folks were still lingering, laughing to themselves and Alice's decoration pieces were lit up here and there, but it wasn't so crowded as the front or the inside of the Cullen home. From the back side of the house, I could see each floor's balconies and rooms illuminated by the light bulbs, accompanied by the silhouettes and shadows of people, but other than that, Edward and I were alone.

"Garrett's my ten year–old cousin," Edward murmured slowly, still trying to process things.

He was leaning back against the back of the swing, appearing a little slumped, as he stared blankly ahead of him. His long legs were stretched in front of him and his feet were planted firmly into the ground, not moving from their places, even as he gently rocked us back and forth. I was sure that he wasn't even aware that he was doing it. I, on the other hand, was paying only half the attention to the conversation. I was sitting on the brim of the swing, with my hands curled around the edges. We were sitting on opposite ends of the swing, so there was a reasonable amount of distance between us, which, for some reason, didn't make me too happy. My eyes were sweeping across the Cullen backyard in awe, still not over the beauty of this house. Honestly, this place deserved first prize winner on the Best Decorated House of Christmas this season.

I wasn't just astonished by the decor. The number of people, the largeness of Edward's family, the utter joy being radiated from lingering in the midst of this whole community, the laughs, the jokes, the cheers, the winter wishes and season's greeting . . . it was just fantastic.

I didn't want to be judgmental because I didn't know Edward well enough to decide, but I wasn't sure if he knew and was grateful for what he had. All this family, this love, this happiness . . . did he take it all for granted? I was so incredibly envious of him right now, knowing that I could never have such a large family as this ever in my life. I had no siblings, not many friends. My parents themselves were strangers to each other. I knew very little of distant relatives and cousins.

Despite the fact that I wasn't very social, I knew that it was something I craved. How nice it must have been for Edward, surrounded by all this love.

So what if he was adopted? It certainly didn't appear that way.

His mother, to start with, was a great example. She was unable to conceive, but did that make her a bitter person? No. She embraced life, and refused to let this is little inconvenience take over her happiness. And the way she had talked about Edward, feeling sad because _he_ felt sad . . . that surely was something.

Not for the first time, I found myself hoping uselessly for a future where I would be surrounded by family and friends, and feel as though I would never be alone in this world. Wishful thinking, of course . . .

"How's his ankle?" I asked, sounding sympathetic. Although I'd never crashed into a reindeer (yet), I'd had my _un_fair share of sprained ankles. I knew the pain.

"How did you know about that?" he asked, sounding slightly suspicious, tilting his head to the left to watch me.

"I was in the kitchen when you came to get the ice. I'm the friend your Mom introduced to you, remember?"

His eyes widened and his frame went frozen with shock. "That was _you_?" He looked so angry, disbelieving and amazed at the same time.

"How many other Bellas do you know?" I taunted.

"Thankfully none," he muttered to himself, so he wasn't able to see the result of his words on me: a blush. Of course. "I'm such an idiot."

I put on a serious face and playfully nodded in agreement before giggling when he shot a glare at me. At hearing my laugh, his expression relaxed and he watched me with a serene smile on this face, but before long, it started to gradually fade.

"I suppose all this mess is my fault, isn't it."

It was a rueful statement, not a question. I stared at him in confusion, about to ask him what he was talking about, but he continued before I could.

He sighed and dropped his gaze to his lap, looking forlorn. His hands were wrapped tightly together and I guessed that it wasn't because of the cold.

"I'm really sorry about the way I acted yesterday," he said quietly, still not meeting my perplexed gaze. "And I'm sorry for bringing Alice into this, as well. It's just that, yesterday, she sort of knew that something had happened during my day and sort of demanded to know what was going on. And when she wants to know something . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head with a disbelieving smile on his face.

"The point is," he continued. "I told her about my evening with you, and the time before that. At the bookstore." As a look of utter horror crossed my features, he hurried to assure me, "Don't worry; I didn't tell her about your little reminiscence with that quote."

As I tried to restart my breathing and heartbeat, Edward turned to stare ahead of him once more, but this time, there was a tiny grin on his face, as though he was replaying the memory in his mind. And it amused him. My eyes shut together painfully for a brief moment. He wasn't going to let that go, was he?

Edward was starting to talk again so I focused on his words, not on my embarrassment.

"So, Alice got really infuriated when she found out that I had invited you to today's dinner. Not that she had anything against you," he added quickly, as though trying not to offend me. "But because she thought it would really freak you out since we barely knew anything about each other. She said I needed to give you time if I wanted us to be . . . friends. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was right."

I stared at him in silence, not sure what to think. Was that a blush? Were his ears really turning red or was it the trick of the Christmas lights? When he spoke again, he sounded a little sheepish, so I figured I was right about the blush.

"I was going to call you this morning to tell you that you didn't have to come tonight, that it wouldn't hurt my feelings, and to apologize for my . . . _stalkerish_ behavior, but . . . I guess, I was scared. After listening to Alice, seeing it from a girl's perspective, I was terrified of what you might say to me. Alice must have known that I hadn't talked to you, and when I wasn't looking, she probably stole your number to call you from her own phone."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, looking extremely uncomfortable and apologetic. "I really am sorry about all the trouble I caused you – having to make up stories to your parents, my mother ..."

He fell silent, still keeping his gaze resolutely away from mine while I absorbed this.

"It's fine," I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but I felt as though I was about to burst with happiness. "I wanted to come. Even if you _were_ acting a little creepy yesterday. I forgive you."

He looked over at me then, not speaking for a long time, but once he realized I was only taunting him, his face broke into that wide, crooked grin of his that I'd been dreaming about ever since I'd met him.

"Thanks," he grinned, seeming more at ease than I'd ever seen him. "But I truly am sorry about everyth –"

"_Shh_," I interrupted, trying to keep the irritation in my tone to a minimum. "I don't want to hear it. Apologize once more and I'm leaving. Don't be brooding over this for the rest of the night."

"I promise," He managed a quick grin before turning curious. "So what do you want to do now?"

I knew I didn't need to ponder too much to decide on something I wanted to do. The request slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. "Can you take me on a tour of your house now?" I asked eagerly, already standing up.

Getting to his feet, he laughed heartily, which was good to hear – since I'd seen him smiling only a handful number of times tonight. "Whatever you want."

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**A/N:** I _know_ it's a really tiny chapter and not much progressed between the two of them, but this was necessary! Sorry! Truly! It was just a filler. The next and last one will be much longer and updated _tomorrow_. And it has the scene you've been (hopefully) anticipating. Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Thanks for the response to the last chapters. I appreciate the reviews by **Mystified** – I enjoyed reading your opinions. This is the last chapter of the story! Approximately 8500 words, and 18 pages. Kindly let me know if you come across any mistakes. I hope you like reading it.

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**Chapter 9  
****BPOV**

**[December 25 ****– ****evening]**

There were no words for it. Not for the first time tonight, I was struck speechless at the absolute, wondrous beauty of the house. There were rooms that Edward pointed out to me that I had found extremely rare and unusual.

A library, more commonly called the _reading room_, a small _music _room that consisted of nothing but a piano (strangely, Edward didn't seem inclined to talk about that one), an indoor theater, a mini–gym, a _stage_ (which Edward said was designed for family concerts, but now Alice used that as a mini–runway for catwalks when her friends came over) and a bar were a couple of the distinct rooms found throughout the whole house.

Edward was extremely amused and clearly entertained at my reactions to each room he presented me to. When he had unnecessarily pointed out the Christmas tree (the damn thing was like _fifty_ feet and _really wide_; one didn't need binoculars to locate it) settled – shining and colorful with ornaments, lights, and the pretty gold star way up top – in the family room, he had openly laughed at my gaping face. I was not a shallow person, but obviously the rules didn't apply to _myself_. Already envious of his large family, their easygoing charm and their inhuman beauty, I had another thing to compare myself to.

_Money_.

I tried not to dwell on the creepy feeling of inferiority that prickled through me, but I felt so out of place and so _tiny _in this place. Seeing Edward's expression upon realizing that I could never hope to _dream_ of being as rich as he was was _not_ of the things I wished to witness before I died. I found myself having constant conflicting thoughts in my head that Edward wasn't that type of person.

And then I realized that what would it matter? Every time a feeling of subordination pricked at me, I found myself asking the question, "Why do I even care?". Why did it _bother _me so much that he was better than I was? There were so many people who I knew and were close to. I wasn't affected by their status. Edward was only someone I had met recently. Why did I compare myself to him?

The answer was there, edging to come out and for me to think it, to admit it. I forcefully squashed it down. I _cared_ about him, as a friend would do. That was it. I was not allowing it to go further.

_Stop it_, I ordered myself firmly. I was here for Edward, because we _both_ wanted to have a good time at his house. All this time, I had been complaining internally about Edward brooding and here I was doing the same thing. What kind of hypocrite did that make me?

I looked at Edward who was peering into one of the rooms he was indicating and explaining its use, and I forced a smile on my face. Which wasn't hard, since Edward's face could brighten up anybody's mood – even Grumpy, the dwarf.

Taking a deep breath, I focused on his words. "Why do you have a gym?"

The idea of a gymnasium scared me. Not only was I terribly uncoordinated with my _feet_ but also equipment. When my mother had gone through a _fitness_ phase, she had dragged me along to witness her workout, whenever I had visited Phoenix. I had carefully sat on one of those in–place bicycle things, paddling on the spot.

Yeah, and then I managed to twist my ankle around the pedal, stumble, and topple over the side.

Needless to say, a lot of my classmates had the opportunity to sign my cast.

"Emmett used to use it before, but after he visited a public gym, he's started going there. Although, I have a hunch that he only works out there because of the _swimming pool_ that's connected to the gym through a _glass window_ where there are a lot of _females_. Whether he shows off or gawks at them is beyond me, but I happen to know that he's quite interested in a certain blonde. Rosalyn or Rosalie, I think."

At my mildly perplexed look, he clarified, "My adopted, elder brother – his soon–to–be girlfriend. Or so he hopes. Esme would have liked to get rid of the room, – use it for something else, perhaps – but he claims that he'll use it again."

"Where is Emmett, anyway?"

Edward shrugged. "No idea. Our family's been visiting for over the course of a week, and there's more to come. He ditched us, probably feeling a little overwhelmed. Then again, he was never that into family bonding, especially when there's little kids involved." He made a face and continued to mutter, frowning thoughtfully at me. "Destroys his manliness, he claims . . ."

With a roll of his eyes, Edward trailed off and his eyes skipped around us, contemplating and observing, while I thought things through. Emmett was adopted? Did that mean Alice was, too? I knew Edward was, and I knew Edward had two "siblings", but I'd been under the impression that at least the children were biologically related to each other. Of course, I felt a little silly now because I realized that Alice and Edward looked nothing alike.

We were standing in a hallway on the second floor and I could see only a few people lingering around. After a moment of deep thought, Edward turned back to me with a satisfied smirk. "It seems that we have finished the tour, my lady," He dipped his head down dramatically in a chivalrous bow, his right hand flattened over his belly.

Because of the motion, the ends of his wild hair almost brushed against my face. I took a tiny step back, a deep breath and tried to rein in my just as wild thoughts. I let out a brief and low giggle at his silliness, hoping my outward, jittery appearance wouldn't be given away.

He continued, "Is there anything else you wish to see?", straightening back up with a wide grin.

My heart thudded at his casual use of the pet name. I didn't bother with an acknowledgement to it (mainly because I was too flustered to have one) and instead, joked, "The bathrooms?"

He chuckled. "I seriously doubt that you – Alice?"

Edward's eyes were focused on something over my shoulder. I turned around to find Alice dancing towards us gracefully with a magnificent beam on her face. From behind me, Edward groaned, but his sister simply ignored him and pulled me into a quick hug.

"How's it going?" she asked me, pulling back to wink at me.

"Great," I muttered self–consciously, not meeting Edward's eyes.

"Alice, go away," Edward commanded, sounding annoyed.

Alice's flashing eyes cut to him. "Don't forget that I'm the reason Bella's here in the first place. She's my guest just as much as she's yours. Stay out of it."

Resigned, Edward mumbled something about "not sharing" to himself but hung back without speaking.

"Where's Jasper?" I interrupted, amused, but wanting to end their bickering. I had caused this family enough trouble by now.

"He's in the living room with some of his friends, because I told him I wanted to hang out with you. Edward – you can go to him. Bella, come on; I'll show you my room."

"No," Edward interjected before we could leave. "I want to introduce her to Mom."

"But I already met your mom," I stared at him in confusion.

Edward's opened his mouth to say something, but Alice beat him to it. "Besides," she reminded him. "Mom believes the story about Bella and I having met at the mall. If she sees you with Bella, she'll ask what you're doing with her and why I'm not there with you two. She'll notice that you're not brooding anymore. Don't go ruining it by telling her the truth."

Poor Edward, I thought sympathetically, gazing at him. His expression was so heartbreakingly wounded and I had a hunch that Alice's statement had reminded him of the trouble he caused – even though I hadn't been lying when I said that I had forgiven him. In fact, there wasn't anything to forgive. Lying partially to my father, sneaking off to a party and making new friends was a completely new territory for me. I felt rebellious. And it felt nice to feel rebellious.

And though I would never say it aloud, I had the urge to tell Alice to give us some time alone, too. Edward was just such great company. In the ten minutes that we had spent roaming his house, we had started up so many little conversations about each other; personal or random. He hadn't been joking when he had said yesterday that he had a million questions for me. Because he did.

It was quite astonishing to learn that someone wanted to know so much about plain, boring old me. And he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. Despite the fact that we'd often had to pause in the middle of conversations when we entered a foreign area of the house, he would always wait for me to finish whatever I would be rambling about before speaking. And even though we were constantly moving around and surrounded by other guests, he always managed to give me his utmost, undivided attention – something I was not familiar with. The idea was mind–boggling and would definitely take some time to get used to.

"Fine," Edward crossed his arms over his broad and firm chest, looking ever so sexy (I coughed softly, averting my eyes) as he glared down at his sister. "I won't take her to Mom. But you've had her for most of the night. I want to spend some time with her, too. You can talk to her later."

I felt dizzy. Were they really fighting over my company? It was strange, flattering, creepy and really sweet at the same time. "I want to spend some time with her, too", Edward had said. How _much_ time? What did he even want us to do? Alice looked at me questioningly, as though asking what I wanted. Hoping that Edward didn't notice (I didn't want his smug expression coming back any time soon), I looked pleadingly at her, only barely nodding my head.

Alice's eyes darted from me, then to Edward. She looked almost disbelieving about something because her eyebrows were raised in shock, but then her lips were starting to curve into an extremely amused smirk. Two seconds later, she was full–out grinning at the pair of us.

"Alice?" Edward and I began at the same time as we stood uncertainly, startled at her sudden change of demeanor.

"You right," she told Edward. "I'm sure I'll see Bella later, anyway. You win, okay? Have fun, both of you. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got last minute decorations to hang up."

She pranced away, and Edward and I were left to stare after her in completely bewilderment.

"What was she talking about?" Edward muttered, looking suspicious.

I shrugged casually, even though I, too, knew that she was up to something. "Don't know. You know her better than I do, anyway."

"Not enough," he mumbled. He was still frowning, but after a moment or two of contemplating, he turned to me with a bright smile. "What you do want to do now?"

Why was the decision always up to me? And he was making it so difficult to say anything. I carefully looked away from the Christmas green dancing in his eyes.

"You're the host," I teased. "You should come up with something now, especially since I decided last time."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Challenging me, are you? Let's see . . . We could watch a movie, if you'd like. Or we could go into the backyard and just talk." He paused at that one, as though he were silently letting me know that that was the option he preferred. "Or I could introduce you to my cousins. Or we could –"

"Let's go back outside," I interrupted.

"Yes," he agreed instantly, trying to sound nonchalant, but he looked almost ready to burst with happiness. I raised my eyebrows at his suddenly pleased demeanor. At my expression, he stammered, "Um, because we wouldn't want to run into my mom. Or Alice again."

"Right." I said, trying not to smile.

He beamed and slid his hand into mine – just one of those simple, handshake kind of hand–holding – before starting to pull me down the stairs. I sucked in a huge breath, not having the ability to speak, as my eyes locked into our intertwined hands. He'd held my hand once after our little hug outside, but that had been only brief. And I'd had other things to worry about at that moment.

His hand was really warm, despite the chilliness of the air. I could barely see my own hand enveloped inside his. His grip was also firm on mine – soft but tight, if that made any sense.

I inhaled shakily, not daring to speak. I knew that I would only sound like an idiot if I did. Having been given a through tour of his house only recently, I could identify the paths he took and soon, we were back outside on our little swing.

This time, we didn't sit so far apart.

Our thighs didn't touch, but our shoulders did. And it made me nervous. And happy. And scared. And flustered. And –

"So, tell me about your mom again."

I was thrown at his sudden request. "What do you want to know?"

He looked ahead of him, his eyes scanning the house and people in and out of it. It was getting close nine–thirty and guests were starting to sing Christmas carols. I hadn't paid much attention to it before, but I could hear the buzz of music being played on one of those large stereos. A few adults were even grooving to the tunes. One particular group of men, not too far from where Edward and I were sitting, were howling with laughter. I could only assume that they were sharing some Christmas–related joke.

"You said that she lives in Phoenix with her boyfriend. Do you miss her?"

"A lot," I sighed. "She's really crazy; young for her age. A kid at heart. She's always experimenting and trying out new things. That's good in a way and bad in a way."

"Why is it good?" Edward glanced over at me, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Wouldn't you want her to be close to you?"

"Of course I want her with me. But she's a very adventurous person. It takes a lot of work to keep her grounded. But I don't like holding her back, either. While I was growing up, I was there to kind of keep her on track. Now she's got a boyfriend; he's there to take care of her and I got a little break."

Edward was in deep thought when I looked over at him. "So," he began slowly. "You're saying that you used to live in Phoenix, too?"

"Just until recently," I nodded. "Once Phil entered our lives, I decided that it would be nice to come to Forks. To spend time with Charlie, and to give her some time with Phil. I'm glad I made the decision to come here."

"I'm glad you did, too."

My eyes snapped up to his; first in shock, then in embarrassment. He wasn't grinning his usual crooked smile at me but he wasn't frowning either. He looked serious but not in a bad or unhappy way. His eyes were focused intently on mine, all emotion drained from his face, and were dark, narrow and meaningful. As if he was trying to tell me something. His tone, also, when he'd spoken wasn't the cheerful and energetic. It had been low, almost a breathless sigh but sort of like a mutter. We gazed at each other wordlessly for a moment as I tried to wrap my head around the situation. I broke the staring contest first, shifting uncomfortably, even as I blushed heavily.

When he spoke again, I could still hear the undertone of seriousness in his voice. And I could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of my head. "Okay, so why is it a bad thing, then? Your mother being spontaneous and everything?" he clarified after a moment.

"_Because _she's so "spontaneous", she often doesn't realize what's dangerous and what's not. That's where I've usually stepped in. And that's what I meant by bad. It's usually bad for _me_."

"Yeah?" he was grinning widely, back to his normal self now. "Elaborate, please?"

My face felt like it was on fire – of course, nothing new. "I don't think so. It's bad enough that I'm always a subject of public humiliation. Don't make it worse by asking me about it. They're not exactly experiences that I enjoy sharing."

He was chuckling, and even the nasty glare I threw him didn't deter him.

"Okay," he allowed after a moment. His emerald eyes were twinkling beautifully in the darkness. "No embarrassing tales from you tonight. But I still want to hear more. How long have you lived in Forks?"

"This is my second year," I informed him. "I didn't want to have to catch on school in the middle of the semester, so I left Phoenix after my freshman year. I'm a junior now."

Edward's face brightened and I had to force myself to stare only long enough that was considered polite. "So we're about the same age, then?"

This idea seemed to please him, and the more I thought about it, the more it pleased me, too. I remembered him telling me at the store yesterday that he was a high school junior, but still . . . I turned to him, doubtful. "Birthday?"

His pearl–white, perfectly straight and right–sized teeth sparkled in the contrasting darkness as he smiled. Oh, God, help me, I whimpered silently to myself. I couldn't believe I was gushing over how attractive Edward's dental care was.

"June," he answered, and I forced myself to look away from his curious eyes. "I'm seventeen. And you?"

So he was only a few months older than I was . . . "September. Seventeen." I said quietly.

With a thoughtful nod, he leaned back against the swing, totally relaxed, while I remained on the edge and _on _edge. Of course, not because I was afraid . . . Edward was the most safe, warm and tender person I had ever met in my life. The only time I could ever feel safer when I was with him was when I was engulfed in his arms (and believe me; been there, done that) so I could say it with confidence.

No, the only reason I feeling skittish was because of his close proximity to me, in this dark, secluded and quiet place. A close proximity that was doing wonderful but scary things to my heart and breathing – wonderful because I had never experienced it before and it felt lovely, and terrifying because my heartbeat and breathing were very vital components of me that were giving me the ability to be _alive_.

A close proximity that was getting closer and closer . . .

I felt my insides and out go rigid as Edward's arm lifted from his lap (much to my disappointment, he had let go of my hand not long after we had sat down) to stretch up in air and drape across the back of the swing. Now, it wouldn't have been so tension–worthy if it had been his _right_ arm, draping across his _right_ side, on the _right_ side of the swing _where there was no Blushing Bella_ _present_.

Not to mention that his fingers were now barely brushing the coat–covered skin of my shoulder.

But of course, when was life – or more accurately, _Edward _– ever easy on me? I had suspicions that he was doing was this on purpose. Among other things, naturally – the intense, smoldering gazes, the bright, cheerful and genuine crooked smiles, the roughness and low tones of his smooth, hypnotizing voice, the casual (or intentional?), brief contacts all evening today (the hug, the hand holding, now _this_) and yesterday evening (the kiss on my hand) that sent electric signals and shivers along the length of my skin.

That, naturally, arose more questions. If he _was _doing it on purpose – why? Did he get the same reactions as I did when we touched? Did he like it?

I looked down into my lap, biting down into my lower lip. I took a breath. "Edward . . ." My voice cracked. "I –"

My stomach growled loudly in protest, interrupting. I clamped my hand over my stomach and tilted my head to Edward's with a sheepish smile. For a moment, he stared at me blankly before his lips slid into a frown.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," He sounded terribly guilty. His eyes dropped down to his hands, as though he were ashamed with himself. "I'm a terrible host. I can't believe I invited you for dinner and forgot to get you dinner."

"It's fine, Edward," I said with a tender smile. "Your mom even offered when I met her earlier. I wasn't even hungry until now. Promise."

He exhaled sharply. "Now that you mention it, even _I'm_ a little hungry." he admitted. He got to his feet and held out his hand. "Come on; let's get you something to eat."

I didn't take his hand. "I can't go into the kitchen, Edward. Your mom's there."

His visibly struggled to control his expression, but I could see the frustration on his face. "I hate this hiding business," he grumbled with an adorable pout. His eyes burned on mine as though he were thinking something else that he didn't want to say. "But you're right."

"It's just temporary," I promised. "Afterwards, she'll probably think that we met and are friends through Alice, and we can forget about this whole ordeal."

Despite his irritation, his head snapped over to mine. Something I'd said pleased him, I thought, observing the spark in his eyes and the barest of smiles lingering on his lips.

"You're right," he said again with a wide smile.

_Jeez __– __bipolar much, Edward? Sometimes you're smiling, other times you're irritated, serious . . . _I didn't let the thought go on because it was too hypocritical – I'd been feeling the same way.

"But I'm not going to let you wait out here alone." Without waiting for me to speak, he lifted me effortlessly from the swing with just a gentle tug on my hand.

I whimpered to myself about how he was killing me with this casual contact again and again, but I managed to keep a confident and steady front. Thankfully, he didn't lead me to the kitchen like I'd been expecting. It wasn't that I didn't want to see Esme at all – just that I didn't want her to see me with her son just as yet. And holding hands, too.

Edward pulled me up the stairs, but I didn't recognize the room in which we approached. He hesitated for a moment, before giving me a sideways look. I observed his expression: nervous.

"Thank goodness she didn't force me to share with anyone," he muttered to himself. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but a moment later, he spoke, this time to me, in a low voice. "This is my room."

Almost as though he were unwilling to show me, he twisted the doorknob and pushed the door away from the frame. I peered inside quietly, taking a step forward without realizing. I was expecting it to be messy, with clothes scattered across the floor, posters of half–naked girls and cars flattened against the wall, and ripped papers and books strewn across bed – weren't all teenage guys like that?

However, I was _not_ expecting to see a medium sized bed with a regular nightstand, carrying a lamp, next to it, a tall and think bookshelf with a generous amount of books, a desk with a laptop and a stack of books, a black leather couch on the opposite side of the room – all in all, a relatively neat, organized and _simple_ room. Spacious but not filled up with meaningless items. There were also three inner doors. Only one of them was open and that led to an attached bathroom. Another, I assumed, was a closet. And the last led to a small–sized balcony. The chortles and chatter from the backyard below floated up and I pitied Edward since he probably wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

Edward suddenly started talking from behind me. I turned back to give him my attention.

"You can stay here, if you like. Feel free to look around._ Make yourself comfortable_. I'll go get us dinner. What would you like? We have potatoes, chicken, Greek salad – wait. You're a non–vegetarian, right?" I nodded once slowly, looking alarmed as he trilled so fast that I could barely understand what he was speaking. He didn't even seem to be paying attention to my reaction. He was tripping over his words and he was so anxious that he was practically vibrating. "Anyway, so there's the salads, turkey. I think. Lasagna, pork – I . . . you know what? It doesn't matter. I'll just get one of everything. Be right back. Wait here."

He dashed out the door before I could blink. "Don't get a lot!" I shouted after him. "I won't be able to eat it all."

But he was already gone.

Still stunned, I turned wide–eyed back to the interiors of his room. I peeled off my coat and draped it across the back of Edward's desk chair. Being inside the house for so long was making me a little stuffy.

It was interesting, I mused, now focused on his simple and relaxed preferences when it came to his room. There wasn't a thing out of place, except for his bed. The sheets were all tangled up in one big ball as though he'd had trouble sleeping last night. With his family members gulping down beer after beer and laughing raucously, I couldn't blame him.

I gravitated towards his bookshelf, most interested in that since love for books was one thing we had in common. In the back of my mind, I wondered if he also enjoyed classical music since I did, too. It would, no doubt, please me immensely if he did. I had asked him about it earlier, but he hadn't seemed to like answering that particular question of mine. Now that I thought about it, he had seemed embarrassed. Shy, even. But why? Why would music preferences be embarrassing to talk about? There were far worse humiliating things in life. I was witness to that.

I hadn't pried, respecting his privacy. The relieved look on his face when I had changed the subject made it worth it, anyway.

I stepped up close to the shelves, inhaling for the first time. His room smelled like him – the faint trace of something sweet lingered around. The thought made me giddy, and with a grin, I scanned each of the book titles.

After about five minutes, I was running my fingers across the spines of each novel, whispering quotes to myself from each book I recognized. I checked routinely with the doorway to make sure Edward hadn't stealthily arrived.

His collection was impressive, I thought with a fond smile. There were more books than not that I hadn't read, but they weren't Classics. In return, there were many Classics I had read that weren't shelved. I would have to ask him whether he knew of those books and if he'd be dropping by my bookstore to pick up their copies.

It was so unnerving to realize that in the past few days, Edward had gone from an unfortunate victim of my mortification to someone I cared immensely about. It was all happening so very quick. I had no idea if this was a good thing or not.

But I didn't regret it, not one bit. Meeting him was the best thing I had ever done in my life. He was so sweet and caring, despite not having known me for so long.

My eyes shifted to the brand new copy of _Wuthering Heights_ perched on the top shelf, along with the books he had bought the other day. Their covers were sleek and smooth, just the way I liked it.

I smiled and pulled my favorite book out. I flipped through the pages, knowing exactly what I was looking for and where exactly I would find it. With a triumph grin, my eyes scanned the lines of the page. The quote, the same quote, I'd used was sitting right there. I thought back to the day again, when I'd used it – not on _Edward_, but aloud to nobody in particular. I remembered his attentive, fascinated and somewhat amused expression as he had stared at me. Edward hadn't been mocking or crept out.

And _that _was what kept me thinking of him over and over again since then.

"Ahem,"

I whirled around, eyes wide and lips parted – ready for a screech – but I relaxed when I saw Edward leaning against the doorway of his room. His eyes were amused and lips were curved up affectionately. In his hands was a large, rectangular tray with two large glass plates carrying a mountain of food. Two large glasses of water sat on either side of the plates. Damn him.

"What were you doing?" Funny, he sounded and looked totally composed now – as opposed to me. I placed my hand over my heart, trying to get it to settle. His eyes drifted over to the book in my hands. My hands instinctively curled over to cover the title, but it was too late. His grin widened even as his eyebrow lifted. "Wuthering Heights? Reminiscing on the memories, I see."

My mouth opened in protest even I blushed to the roots of my hair. He lifted himself off the doorway to set the tray on his desk before walking over to his bed, shrugging out of his jacket as he did so. I frowned at his exaggerated show of making himself comfortable. He was sitting at the foot of his bed but not facing the same direction as his bed; he was sort of sideways. To his left was the entire area of the bed, to this right was the edge and the end of of it. Leaning his head back against the wall, he stared up at me expectantly.

"What?" I demanded, shifting uncertainly from foot to foot. I had moved away from the bookshelf and was now hovering in front of him, feeling that I was definitely missing something.

He feigned confusion. "What, I thought you were going through nostalgia . . . Weren't you reading your favorite book for more quotes? I would love to hear them."

I stared at him blankly before I realized what he was talking about. Or rather, _teasing_ me about despite his deadpanned expression. My face flushed ten times darker. "Edward," I muttered with a bashful, tiny smile. "I'm not –"

He held up his hands in a _halt_ gesture, eyes wide. "Wait, don't start yet. If this is a repeat performance, I'm not going to make the same mistake; let me make some popcorn."

He scooted across, approaching me, and stood with a bright smile. "Two minutes." He held up two fingers and turned to the door. I let the indignation and protest spread across my face but he had already turned left and out of the room.

I crossed my arms over my chest and stood there with pursed lips, telling myself that I needed to learn to get my point across faster. It was quiet in his room now because of his absence, but I could hear Edward's relatives from downstairs. Oh, well, I thought, fuming. Edward would come back soon, anyway, and I would be ready to give him a piece of my mind.

To my surprise, soon came sooner than I expected. Apparently, he hadn't even left because two seconds later, he poked his head into the room, laughing at my expression. "Sorry, Bella," he grinned, striding back into the room. He came to a halt in front of me. "I saw the book and I couldn't help teasing you. It won't happen again; I promise."

Of course, my anger had melted the second I had seen his boyish, lopsided grin. But if he thought he could get away with teasing with just a simple apology, then I deserved some revenge . . .

"That's what you said last time," I muttered, trying to sound as angry as possible as I stared at his chest instead of his face. I knew that the threatening smile would just erupt if I met his eyes. I felt Edward go rigid in front of me. "Don't promise anything to me."

I skirted around him and began to march towards the doorway. With a mumbled curse, he clasped his fingers around my wrist. I expected the pain to come but he had only grabbed my wrist for a second, to keep me from getting away. Now that I was within reach, he slid his fingers down the familiar path of my hand. He seemed to be holding my hand a lot today. I felt a jolt of excitement and electricity spark through me and I waited, wondering what he would do next.

He stepped up closer from behind me, before circling and coming to a stop in front of me. _His right hand is still grasping my left. Quick, someone call the ambulance_, I panicked. _I'm going to die of a heart attack_.

I bristled, trying to appear annoyed. "Edward, let g–"

"I'm sorry," His voice was low, guilty and sincere. Because of his tall frame, he towered over me in the doorway. I refused to meet his eyes, keeping my chin tucked into my chest, determined to keep my smile as far away from him as I could. Unfortunately, he squashed my plan into dirt when he lifted his free hand from his side to curl his index finger under my chin.

He tilted my head back up so that he could read my eyes. His own were swimming with regret and his lips were turned down into a terrible frown. "I'm sorry, Bella," he repeated with a murmur, keeping his gaze intent on mine. I tried to look away. "I made a joke of it, but I never meant to offend you. I know how much your love for reading is, and how important your books are. I'm sorry for bringing up that embarrassing moment again. I realize how much it's affected you. I promise I'll never speak of it again. Forgive me for my thoughtlessness."

_Forgive me for my thoughtlessness?_, I repeated incredulously in my head. What was this – the 1900s? Why was he speaking so . . . politely? No one was this chivalrous – not this day and age, at least. God, he was _so_ . . .

My lips trembled into an amused smile. In the next second, I was trying to rein in my giggles so that I could speak without blubbering; Edward was looking at me confusedly but he still looked a little guilty. "Pfft," I scoffed. "And people have the nerve to say that I can't _act_. I should really reconsider my career options . . ."

"You were –?"

"I wasn't truly angry, Edward," I said softly, with a tiny grin. "Just _acting_. But thank you for your apology. I appreciate it."

To enforce the meaning of my words, that I hadn't just brushed off his sweet words as nothing, I slid my hands around his neck and squeezed him tightly. I heard him let out a shuddering breath and he wrapped his strong arms around my torso. He yanked me closer so that my body was pressed forcefully – but not painfully – against his. His face dropped down to my shoulder, like before and we stood there in silence, totally content.

I inhaled his sweet scent again. We didn't speak for a long minute (or was it an hour?). Finally, I remembered something.

"Now, just because I was acting doesn't mean you can take your words back." I warned him, tilting my head slightly so that my lips were at his ear. "And by that, I don't mean your apology. I mean your promise. You've said now that you won't tease me about what happened that day. I'll hold you to it."

I heard Edward's muffled chortle and he emerged from my neck a second later, grinning. "Ah, but if you were acting, then it doesn't count – since I was acting, too." I scoffed disbelieving and a tender smile spread across his face. "Just kidding. I won't embarrass you anymore. About anything. Anything you don't want me to. And if it makes you feel better – you could always tease me back."

"You haven't embarrassed yourself in my presence. _Yet_. But when the day comes –"

"– I'll be prepared." Edward finished with a soft grin. "And until that day comes, I'll have to take some acting tips from you. So that in case I ever need to _pretend _to be angry at you, you can apologize to me, and then _I _get to give _you _the reassuring hug, just like we did right now."

Stunned, I stared at him, lips parted and eyes wide, while my cheeks turned the color and heat of the boiling sun. I struggled hard to control my shy smile and mortified expression. At a few seconds of a painful silence, I felt my eyes narrow as I glared at him, trying to protect whatever little dignity I had left with me.

"Didn't we _just_ have a discussion about not embarrassing me?" I demanded before burying my overcooked face into his shoulder.

His charming, hearty and ringing laughter, that made me weak at the knees, was the last thing I knew until his arms found their way back around me.

Where they belonged.

* * *

Ever heard the saying? "Time flies when you're having fun."

Until today, I'd never had a reason to despise the obvious truth behind the words. It felt like I'd arrived at Edward's house just five minutes ago. Through the chatter, laughter and hugs, it felt like no time had passed at all since the time I'd set foot in the house.

And it was getting late now. An hour to midnight. It was hard to believe that I'd been here for three hours already.

Edward and I had eaten dinner in his room. Not wanting to keep me bored, he had offered to run a movie on his computer while we ate on his bed. I hadn't cared, really. I had much rather preferred to talk more with him, but to humor him, I'd said yes. At first, I'd felt that it would be a little hard to watch since his computer screen was rather small, and quite a distance away from his bed, but to be honest, I hadn't truly minded, since I hadn't even been planning on paying attention to the movie in any case.

I'd regretted agreeing two seconds into _The Polar Express_. Edward had dug through his closet, emerged with a fancy projector and performed some technical adjustments to his room so that we had been facing the blank wall on the opposite end of his bed with the movie playing on full sound, full size and in complete darkness.

I knew that I shouldn't have been so surprised when he'd dimmed the lights of his room – to watch a movie in the dark was only natural – but I'd gotten nothing but a panic attack. It hadn't helped either when he'd clambered over his bed to sit extremely close to me, the sides of our arms and stretched–out legs touching. The entire time I'd been fighting the urge to snuggle up close to him and rest my head on his chest.

Yeah, dinner had been pleasant.

Edward's soft voice pulled me out of my musings. "Bella?"

I glanced over at him to find him staring at me curiously.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking . . ." I said slowly, trying not to let the disappointment show. "That it's getting late and I need to leave before midnight."

His face fell and I knew he regretted asking me in the first place. Still, he put up a brave front and smiled. "Of course. I'll walk you out."

He sounded as reluctant as I felt. In the back of mind, I knew that it wasn't the end of the world. It wasn't as if I would never see him again. But I'd had such a great time coming here and spending all of it with him. In the few hours that I'd gotten to known him better, I could say with confidence that Edward was truly an amazing human being. And he was a wonderful friend to have.

With a heavy heart, I followed Edward out of his bedroom door. Despite the late hour, the enthusiasm of the party hadn't gone down. All the adults, at least, were awake with wide and bright eyes. As Edward and I passed the living room, I noticed a couple of the young kids passed out on their parents' laps.

With a smile, I waved to Peter as we walked out – Edward had introduced me to his cousin when he'd wandered past Edward's room and wondered what we were "alone". The conversation still made me flush. Peter was a nice guy, a little too smirk–y (whenever he saw Edward and I) for my liking. He appeared the same age as, if not older than, Edward, and I could recognize the sarcastic and mysterious but fun and charming personality sparked in him – a reflection of Edward's. I had no idea if they were related biologically but not wanting to sound rude, I hadn't asked.

"It was nice to meet you, Bella," Peter leered back at me. He'd mock–flirted with me earlier as well, but it was harmless. He talked to all teenage girls that way. To wiggle his fingers at me, Peter briefly lifted his attention from the video game he was engaged in with a friend of his. "ButI'm sure I'll be seeing you more often around the house, the next couple of days."

I frowned at him in confusion as he and his friend snickered. Edward coughed uncomfortably from beside me when Peter smirked over at him as well. When I glanced back at Edward, he looked away.

"What do you mean?" I practically had to shout the words for him to understand over the guffaws and hoots of laughter coming from the surrounding folks.

With a wide grin, Peter opened his mouth to speak, but Edward dragged me away before he could say anything.

"Imbecile," Edward muttered under her breath and I giggled at his frustrated expression.

"What was he talking about?" I asked, interested.

Edward didn't answer. He led me to the front door, his steps faltering the closer we got there. I turned to him with a lot of things ready to be spoken. I had to thank him. For everything. For giving me the best Christmas of my life. For getting me so many knew friends and people I cared about. For being there for me.

We stopped, just lingering on his front porch. _Trying to delay the inevitable_, I thought to myself. The front yard was deserted now since it was too cold to remain outside with casual clothes on. Only the colorful, lit up decorative pieces that Alice had installed were there for company.

I voiced my thoughts now. "Edward," I whispered, staring at his chest. If I looked into his eyes now, I knew I would forget what I had to say. "Thank you _so_ much for inviting me. It was really nice getting to know a part of your family. And I had a great time with you, too. It's been the best Christmas of my life and I'm so glad that we're friends. I can't thank you enough for that; for everything you've done for me, Edward. You're a wonderful person. Truly."

"Bella," Edward began, looking down into my eyes without a trace of amusement into them. His words were just above a murmur; I was surprised I could even hear him over the cheering coming from inside the house. "I'm so happy that you came over tonight, despite everything I said and did yesterday. I had a lot of fun being with you and it was _amazing_ getting to know you. After my parents died . . ."

He swallowed hard and my heart instantly clenched at the pain he obviously was going through.

". . . I sort of _closed_ off from the world. Esme and Carlisle are great, and I have the best – and craziest – family in the world now." With a gentle smile, he nodded his head in the direction of the house. "But I never had any friends. _True _friends. You have no idea how relieving and wonderful it feels to finally connect with somebody on an intellectual and emotional level."

His hand slid to my face to cup my cheek; it burned under his touch.

"You are so beautiful in this way," he told me quietly. "I've never met a more selfless, intelligent, funny, caring, genuine and fascinating person in my _life_. It's been an amazing evening with you and words aren't enough to express my gratitude. Thank you so much for being there for me."

With his last words, his left hand reached out to give my right a gentle squeeze.

I was still staring firmly into his chest. My eyes were so completely wet by now that it was becoming difficult to see clearly. I knew that any second I would start bawling. I just couldn't bear to see his expression.

He repeated his actions from earlier. With his right hand, he gently coaxed my face up. I could only see his face through blurry eyes but I didn't have the energy to wipe my yet–to–fall tears away.

"Bella, I'd like to see you again. Tomorrow, next week, whenever. Bella, I . . . **–**" he whispered again, sounding different. Strange. "Did you . . . do you know what we're standing under?"

My eyebrows furrowed at the random question, but I lifted my gaze nonetheless to see past our heads.

And froze.

Damn Alice.

As much as I loved her, I was going to kill her. Of course she was the mastermind behind this plan. Hanging innocently from the ceiling was the European green bush that gave "luck" to prospective couples in the future. The plant that people were required to _kiss_ under. No wonder Edward sounded strange. Anybody would sound freaked out if they realized that they had to kiss me. I opened my mouth to play it off – first, I would assure Edward that he didn't have to feel obliged, and secondly, I would excuse myself to hunt down a crowbar to hunt down his sister.

"Mistletoe," I whispered to him, nodding slightly. "Don't wor –"

"Mistletoe," he repeated softly before his tone grew fierce. His eyes tightened and smoldered on me. "'Bearer of good luck and happiness'. A sign of 'friendship and goodwill'. Known as the 'seed of love'. Interpreted as a 'promise to marry'." I felt my mouth drop open in shock as I stared at him, dumbfounded, but he pressed on, looking persistent. "A prompt for a guy to kiss a girl. And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

I barely had time to comprehend what was going on; ever since I heard him say the words "love" and "marry", I hadn't been able to think straight. Before I could say anything, Edward had advanced towards me in one quick stride and pressed his lips against mine.

Not having been kissed before in my life, and certainly not having expected to be kissed by Edward, the Greek God himself, I initially stood silently, thoroughly taken aback, with my feet planted firmly on the ground while Edward wreaked havoc with every nook and corner of my brain, heart and body.

His lips were smooth, gentle and slightly wet on mine. Despite the fact that I was being unresponsive for about, oh, fifty years, his mouth molded perfectly with my own. The kiss was really slow as though Edward were taking his own sweet time, and _enjoying _it, too.

I don't know how long I stood there, frozen in utter disbelief, until my eyes slid closed of their own accord. My hands ghosted up around Edward's broad shoulders to run through his hair. Finally, my lips started moving in sync with his.

I could feel Edward's response better than I could see it. His smile was huge and goofy against my own and a second later, he snaked his arms around my middle.

We stood there, totally absorbed in each other for God knows how long, until we ran out of breath. Edward pulled back first, only to drop his forehead against mine. Both of us were panting so hard that I had to catch my breath before looking at him. He waited until I opened my eyes; his gaze was overwhelming **–** even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to look away.

"Merry Christmas, Bella." he whispered under his breath, stroking my cheek.

Without waiting for me to return the sentiment, he cupped his hand firmly across my face as he lips found mine once more. This time, I responded eagerly, without hesitation. My hands went to his hair again.

"Now that you two are a couple – because of _me_, might I add . . ."

Edward and I drew apart from each other instantly, instinctively looking over to the source of the voice. Alice was standing in the doorway, a couple of feet away from Edward and I, with her arms crossed firmly over her chest. With a nod of her head, she gestured to the mistletoe above our heads. Despite the darkness, I could see the hint of a smirk in her twinkling eyes. I flushed instantly, knowing that she'd seen the entire thing.

"I hope this means that I'll be seeing Bella more often around the house," she continued. Her tone turning stern now as she glared meaningfully at her brother. "You can't steal her away all the time, Edward.

Edward smirked at her once before tugging at my hips. Pulling me closer, he winked at me even as he addressed his sister.

"I'd like to see you stop me."

* * *

**A/N: **That's the end of the story! I don't think the kiss turned out the way I'd been hoping for when I got this plot idea last month, but I'm not going to change it since what's done is done. Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I appreciate your constant feedback. I've already come up with a plot for my new story, but I won't publish it for a while.

Throughout this story, a reoccurring minor theme is how Bella lacks and longs for a big, loving family. Of course, now that she and Edward have become a couple, she'll gain that satisfaction. Originally I'd been planning on writing just that (and her having more friends) as an **Epilogue**, but I'm not so sure anymore. So far, the story is complete. Cheers!


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